The Young Autolycus Chronicles
by OmarSnake
Summary: The Origins of the King of Thieves
1. Default Chapter

Young Autolycus Chronicles "FlashBack" **By: OmarSnake**

And now, the previously untold story of how Cay and Autolycus met. A story there would have been much demand for if anybody had asked for it : )   


29 years ago, in Scyros Province....   


The carnival was in town, and Scyros was bustling with activity. This was the largest of the annual festivals that came through Scyros Province. Most of them were slaphazard travelling shows, or thinly-disguised craft bazaars, or the result of random wanderings by gypsies; but the Festival of The Dragon's Eye was big.... really big.   
It honored the sacred Dragon's Eye Ruby sceptre of the sovereign of Scyros, presently King Menelaus. Generations earlier, it had been acquired through great suffering from a rather reluctant dragon. It had been said that no one would successfully lead the Scyrosians without the stone, and several failed reigns had proven that point. Some saw the legend as a pale superstition, but Scyros was a province that prided itself on its attention to heritage and custom. Under the gleam of the Dragon's Eye, Menelaus's great-grandmother and later her descendants had led the province to times of prosperity.   
Now --- in early fall --- was the anniversary of when the great warrior Malius the Mighty retrieved the stone in the first place.   
The celebration grew larger with each year. One year, a shrewd carnival owner had realized the potential of this festival and arranged to have his carnival set up on the outskirts of town in time for the annual event. This particular year, the queen was heavy with child, and the festive atmosphere was more enthusiastic than ever.   
Cay had loved the carnival as long as he could remember. Being six years old, his memory didn't necessarily go back all that far, but he did so love all the hustle and bustle. To promote his pugilism school, Cay's father had his best students put on demonstrations during the carnival, in between horse races and demonstrations of physical prowess --- many of which Caybr the Elder, being as strong as an ox and three or four times as stubborn, participated in as well.   
Cay adored his father, and never failed to be there cheering him on. And Caybr the Elder doted over his young son, who he swore would be the finest fighter in the world one day. At the moment, Caybr was between performances, and had taken Cay to the game booths, where he tried to encourage the lad to hit the target in a game of darts.   
In another part of the carnival, an 8-year old boy named Autolycus -- though known to almost everyone as 'Toly' -- was running back and forth frenetically down the midway, zig-zagging and trying not to miss a moment of activity. Toly's 23-year old brother Malakis thought he'd never catch up with the lad, until Toly's attention was finally drawn to a woman performing a snake dance. Being shorter than most of the crowd for this particular performance, Toly had made his way up to the front of the stage. As Malakis pushed his way through the crowd to retrieve his little brother, several men shoved back, almost starting a fight. Finally, Malakis reached out and grabbed Toly by the collar and pulled him away.   
The snake-dancer waved goodbye and blew the little boy a kiss before continuing in her routine.   
Back out of the crowd and in the center of the midway, Malakis eyed his little brother. "You really shouldn't have been watching that," he said.   
"Why?" Toly replied.   
"Because mom would pull out your eyeballs and wash them if she knew," Malakis replied. "And then she'd probably pull out my eyeballs and throw em away for letting you see that."   
"Pull out my eyeballs?" Toly considered this. "Cool.. can you really do that?"   
Malakis rolled his eyes. "C'mon, let's get somethin' to eat."   
As they turned away from the midway and toward the food booths, Toly's head arched upwards... and upwards... and upwards. Malakis's did as well.   
Most of the rides in the carnival were simple; ponies trotted in a fenced-in area, men paid to see how long they could ride a bucking bull, children slid down a watery slide to a wading pool below. But this year, something new had been added to the carnival.   
It was an enormous contraption, fifty feet high and circular, made with thick darkened wood. People sat in small chairs on it and were lifted high into the air as the circle arced around, its gears operated by five muscular carnival workers. In a later century, with metal instead of wood and more strident attention to safety precautions, it might have been called a 'Ferris Wheel'.   
Here, though, it was called 'The Dragon'.   
Passengers hooted and hollered as they were lifted up where they could look around and see much of the carnival below. The chairs wobbled fiercely, and the framework of the whole contraption wobbled as it made its rotation, but people were intrigued and had lined up to get a chance to ride it.   
"Whoa, can we go on that?" Toly asked.   
"Not a chance in Tartarus," Malakis replied. He grabbed Toly's hand and pulled the boy toward a shish kebob vendor.   
"Ya want chicken or lamb?" Malakis asked, trying to draw Toly's attention away from the ride.   
"Chicken," Toly said absently, never turning his head. Malakis rolled his eyes and bought their food.   
"Here ya go," he said, pushing a kebob into the boy's hands. "Tell ya what. When we finish eating, we can go back and watch that acrobat you liked so much."   
Toly's head spun around for the first time. "Really???" he asked with a wide grin that revealed a missing tooth or two. "That would be great!"   
"Sure, why not," Malakis replied. "That guy put on a good show... even if his banter was downright annoying. Such a cocky son of a crossbow."   
Back at the game booths, Cay was trying his hardest to get the hoops he threw over the bottles lined up on the floor a yard in front of him. Caybr watched sympathetically, but could tell the boy was getting frustrated and a bit embarrassed. Caybr scowled at the man running the booth.   
"Ya wouldn'ae be scammin' li'l kids wit' this game, would'ya?" Caybr asked menacingly.   
The man shrugged apologetically and took a step back.   
Cay concentrated on one particular bottle, a brown-tinted one with a tall thin neck. The boy examined the wooden two-inch wide hoop he was supposed to throw, then the bottle, then the hoop. He practiced tossing the hoop, trying to visualize what angle it should fly at. When he had it perfectly figured, he took a deep breath and tossed it.   
Just as the hoop left the boy's fingers, there was a thunderous crashing noise and screaming.   


Cay and his father spun around to see the 'Ferris Wheel' as it came off its supports, flinging riders to the ground. People were yelling and moaning. The wheel remained vertical, but barely. It wobbled precariously. On the front edge near the top of the wheel, a young woman dangled off one of the seats, holding onto the footrest for dear life. Above her, a two-year old dark-haired girl cowered in the corner of the seat itself.   
The wooden sides of the wheel were starting to crack and splinter. Caybr made his way through the crowd, Cay following in his wake.   
Several of the carnies were helping people up or carrying ones who had been injured to safety.   
Caybr looked up at the woman dangling above them.   
"Wha' aboot that one?" he asked one of the carnies.   
"What about her? We gotta wait for her to fall."   
Caybr glowered at the man. "We gotta catch'er!"   
"How??" the carnie asked. "She drops from that height, she'll break your arms if you try to catch her."   
"I have an idea," came a third voice from behind them. The two men spun around and saw Malakis, looking upwards.   
A few seconds later, a distressed cider vendor watched as Caybr and two muscular carnies tore his tent down.   
"I had to improvise something like this two years ago, when my little brother got himself caught in the branches of a worm-ridden old tree..." Malakis said, watching the men as they took the tarp and stretched it out. A few other men joined them, pulling it taut.   
They moved under the front edge of the wheel, looking up and trying to position themselves so the woman would land in the center of the tarp. As the musclebound men did this, Malakis took a few steps back and looked up at where the woman was. His jaw dropped as he caught sight, for the first time, of the little girl.   
"There's a kid up there too!" he called.   
Caybr looked up, but from his angle couldn't see anything.   
Meanwhile, at the front of the crowd, Cay and Toly watched.   
"That's my brother," Toly said, pointing out Malakis. "He's really smart."   
"That's my dad," Cay replied, pointing to Caybr. "The one with the long beard."   
"Whoa, he looks strong."   
"He's the strongest man in the world," Cay replied.   
They heard a scream.   
The young woman cried out as her fingers slipped and she fell downwards. She thought her last sight would be that of her child cowering in the seat above..   
"As soon as she hits, let it go loose a bit," Malakis yelled. "But not too much, or..."   
The woman landed in the center of the tarp, and let out a surprised yelp when she didn't splatter against the ground.   
The Ferris wheel groaned as more boards splintered. It started to wobble more noticably, and a strong gust of wind could have knocked it over.   
"My baby!!" the woman cried, scrambling to her feet. Like the child, she was dark-haired, with a Mediterranean tan and large green eyes. She looked like she might still be in her teens, though barely.   
"There's a little kid in the seat still!" Malakis explained to the men.   
"There's no way we can get to her," said one of the carnies. "Too much weight on this thing and it'll fall over."   
"How about a little weight?" Toly asked, stepping forward.   
Malakis looked at his brother and then back up at the Ferris wheel. "It's not safe, Toly. Get back."   
"But I'm a good climber!" Toly replied.   
Malakis nodded. "He is at that," he admitted. "I doubt it could support a grown man, but he might have a chance."   
The massive wheel wobbled and another spoke of the wheel splintered.   
"We dinnae hae much time," Caybr said. "Think the boy can han'le it?"   
Malakis looked up again. "I don't see much choice," he said.   
Toly started to climb the side of the wheel. True to his reputation --- Malakis had nicknamed him 'Squirrel-butt' -- the boy was a natural climber. But before he got too far up, the wheel started to sway.   
Down below, the muscular carnies and Caybr did their best to steady it.   
"This isn'a gonna work!" Caybr yelled. "Th' boy's weight is throwin' it off-balance!"   
"The boy's weight?" a woman in the crowd proclaimed. "But he's so small!"   
"That thing is like a measuring scale at this point," Malakis explained over his shoulder. "The tiniest amount too much on one side or the other and it'll... hey, who's that?"   
Malakis and the others stared as Cay started climbing up the other side of the Ferris wheel.   
Caybr quickly realized what his son was up to. "B' careful, Cay!" He yelled. "If ye fall, yer mother'll whup me somethin' fierce!!!"   
Cay chuckled, his father's joke briefly taking his mind off the climb. Unlike Toly, Cay had never been all that fond of heights, to put it mildly. But his sister Ahoondra was about the same age as the little girl in the seat above, and Cay knew if she was in danger he wouldn't hesitate to save her. Once he was up at the same level Toly was at, the two boys looked at each other.   
"If I'm on this side and you're on that side, it should stay balanced, right?" Cay asked.   
Toly nodded... though he wasn't entirely sure. "By the way, I'm Autolycus, but everyone calls me Toly."   
"I'm Caybr the Younger, but everyone calls me Cay."   
The two boys nodded at each other, then turned their attention upwards and, with fierce determination in their young eyes, scaled the sides of the wheel, heading toward the seat above.   
"Yew can do it, Cay!" Caybr yelled in as encouraging a tone as he could muster. "Make me proud, boyyo!"   
Malakis, meanwhile, held his breath as he watched Toly climb higher. What would mother say if something happened? Deep down, Malakis knew that Chionne would approve of her son's attempt to save a life, but he also knew that her heart would break. After Malakis' father had died of a fever, and Toly's father had impregnated and abandoned her, Malakis wasn't sure if she could handle any more grief. He had no intention of finding out.   
As Cay climbed higher, he could hear the little girl whimpering.   
"Don't worry!" he called. "We're coming!"   
The girl leaned over the edge to see Cay, then her big green eyes widened as she saw how high up she was. She started screaming.   
"Oh, good one," Toly muttered as he started to shinny across a broken spoke, then wrapped his legs around a beam to get higher.   
"Calm down!" Cay called. "I'm almost there! Look at me!"   
The girl turned her attention back to Cay; she was still sniffling, but at least she had stopped yelling.   
Cay tried to climb higher, but the wood splintered on the plank he was standing on.   
"Toly, I don't think I can get any higher!" he called.   
"I think I can make it," Toly replied.   
"What's your name?" Cay asked the girl in as soothing a voice as he could manage.   
"Shan," the little girl stammered.   
"I'm Cay. I have a sister your age, her name is Ahoondra."   
The girl considered this. "Hoonda." she tried to pronounce it.   
Cay smiled. "Close enough. She likes frogs. Do you like frogs?"   
The girl wrinkled her nose.   
"I didn't think so," Cay said with a laugh. "Not many little girls do."   
While Cay had her distracted from her deadly situation, Toly was getting closer. He leaned forward, almost able to reach the footrest on the front of her seat.   
"C'mon," he said, trying not to be nervous. He reached for it again... as the plank underneath him came loose. Toly tumbled forward, grabbing hold of the footrest.   
The seat spun forward, and the girl started to fall.   
Cay cried "Shan!" and started to lunge forward.   
Toly dangled in mid-air, one hand on the footrest and the other holding the screaming little girl, who dangled below him.   
He strained as he pulled her toward him. "We're ready down here!" Malakis called.   
Toly looked down and gulped. "Here goes nothing..." He pulled the girl up to his chest, and she wrapped her arms tightly around him. "Here we come!" Toly called as he pushed away from the seat, tumbling backwards. He was careful to keep his back toward the ground; if they spun the other way around, he might crush her when they hit the tarp below.   
They landed safely, and the impact knocked the wind out of Toly.   
Cay started to scramble down the wheel. By the time he was fifteen feet from the ground, it was teetering more precariously than ever. Caybr ran under him and reached his arms out. Cay leapt, and his father dove to catch him.   
Still gripping Cay tightly, Caybr got to his feet and ran, narrowly getting out from under the wheel before it fell over on its side.   
The woman hugged her daughter tightly, weeping with joy, as Malakis helped Toly get to his feet.   
"You're a hero, Squirrel-butt," Malakis said.   
"That thing is a menace!" a new voice bellowed.   
Everyone turned as King Menelaus's entourage made its way through the crowd. Menelaus was a thin man with a thick greying beard and ornate robes of state.   
The carnival owner was beside him. "It never broke before," he stammered. "And we used it at three other festivals before---"   
"Once is all it takes," Menelaus said harshly. "You'll pay for any medical care for the victims of this so-called 'ride' out of your own pocket."   
The carnival owner, knowing better than to argue with the king, bowed his head.   
"And from what I saw, these boys and those men are heroes," Menelaus continued.   
"Aw, I didn't do anything special," Malakis said. "But my brother Toly here..."   
Menelaus smiled down at Autolycus. "Perhaps someday you can join my constables," he said warmly. "They could use someone so courageous."   
Toly nodded enthusiastically.   
Caybr set Cay down and the two knelt before the king.   
"Ah, you're the pugilist, aren't you?" Menelaus asked. "The one who trained some of my men awhile back."   
"Yea, yer maj'sty," Caybr said humbly. "At'cher service."   
As the king shook hands with Caybr and then Malakis, a figure moved through the crowd.   
It was the vendor of the game booth Cay had been at. In his hand was a stuffed Pegasus doll.   
He handed it to Cay. "You got the ring on the bottle," he explained.   
Cay looked down at the toy, thought for a second, and handed it over to the little girl. She hugged the doll, then reached up with her other arm and hugged Cay around the neck. When she was through, she reached up to hug Autolycus.   
He was a bit embarrassed at this, but knelt down and let her hug him. The little girl kissed him on the cheek and giggled, then stepped back.   
"Kids," Toly muttered, wiping his cheek with the sleeve of his shirt.   
The girl's mother embraced Autolycus so hard he thought she might break his ribs, then reached out and grabbed Cay into the same embrace. "Thanks so much," she sobbed. "I don't know what I would've done..."   
Toly gently patted the woman on the back and looked over at Cay.   
"It was kinda fun climbing around on that thing, wasn't it?" Toly asked quietly.   
Cay rolled his eyes, though when he thought about it, he had to admit... "Yeah, it was."   
"Cool," Toly said. "Cause I know some great places we can go climbing and exploring..."   
END   



	2. "The New Girl In Town"

Young Autolycus Chronicles, Chapter One  
"The New Girl in Town" **By: OmarSnake**

Twenty-some years ago, just outside the boundaries of Scyros Province....   


The door flung open, and Malakis stared upwards with a mixture of disbelief and resignation.   
All he had wanted after a hard day's work was a hearty supper and a nap, but it seemed that was not meant to be.   
"What the Tartarus is going on in here?" He bellowed as he strode through the front door of his home.   
"Um, nothing," came a voice from above.   
Hanging upside-down from the rafters of the house, swinging back and forth, was a handsome 14-year old boy. He had dark hair like Malakis's, but was lean as opposed to Malakis, who could kindly be described as 'stocky'.   
At the moment, the boy was bound with ropes, with chains zig-zagging his chest. His hands were tied behind his back, and his feet were bound together by a separate rope, which wrapped around one of the rafters and came down to the hands of another boy in the far end of the room.   
"Oh, hi, Mister Malakis," the other boy said, forcing a smile as the man stared at him. This boy was almost two years younger than the first one, but several inches taller and more athletic. His light red hair was worn shoulder-length and unkempt, and a string of freckles ran across the bridge of his nose. He spoke with a faintly Scottish accent.   
"Him, I expect this of," Malakis said, pointing up to the boy above, who was struggling with the ropes. "But you? Cay, I'm disappointed."   
The second boy frowned. "I'm sorry, sir," he said. An awkward pause followed, where the only noise was the grunting from above as the dark-haired boy tried to work his way out of the chains.   
"It was his idea," Cay added weakly, nodding upwards as he continued to hold on to the rope.   
Malakis rolled his eyes. "Of course it was."   
Above them, the dark-haired boy worked his hands free, and grinned at the feat.   
"Autolycus, would you get down here!" Malakis growled.   
"In a minute," Autolycus replied, using his free hands to undo the chains around his chest.   
Malakis gave a withering glare to Cay, who tried his best to look innocent.   
"Cay, lower him," the man said wearily.   
Cay started to obey, when a voice from above yelled "No!"   
Cay looked up at Autolycus. "Sorry, but... well, he's a grown-up..."   
Autolycus groaned. "You always listen to grown-ups?"   
Cay shifted the rope a few hand-lengths at a time, and gradually lowered Autolycus to the ground. Before he could reach the bottom, Autolycus undid the ropes on his feet and flipped, landing on his feet with a flourish. "Ta-daaa!" he said to the thoroughly-unimpressed Malakis.   
Malakis crossed his arms and scowled. It was an expression Autolycus knew well, and he knew this wasn't the time to argue.   
"Um... I made stew," Autolycus offered, pointing over to a pot sitting in the fireplace.   
Malakis looked over at it, and momentarily lost his foul expression. "You did? What kind?"   
"Chicken," Autolycus said, smiling. "With little carrot and celery bits."   
Autolycus winked at Cay as Malakis headed over to the pot. "It smells great," he said quietly, then turned.   
"We'll talk about this later," Malakis said in as harsh a voice as he could muster when hunger was taking over.   
As Malakis scooped a bowlful out of the pot, Autolycus motioned to the front door. "Cay and I are gonna go outside for a bit, if that's cool with you. I ate while I was cooking..."   
"Sure, kid," Malakis replied, taking a long satisfying sip off a wooden spoon.   
The boys raced out the door.   
As soon as it shut, Cay spun around. "I can't believe you got away with that!"   
Autolycus grinned. "Of course I did! I know my brother, and if there's one thing I know on a day during the harvest, it's that he's going to be hungry when he gets home. What did you think of my escape?"   
"It wasn't very quick," Cay replied as the two walked down the forest path leading away from the house.   
Autolycus looked as if he had been physically injured. "Wasn't very quick??? Come on! If Malakis hadn't interrupted us, I'd have been out of those ropes in less than a minute." He vaulted upwards, grabbing a tree limb and swinging on it. "I tell ya, a little more practice and I'll be ready to join the travelling carnival!"   
Cay looked up at him. "They rejected you."   
Autolycus dropped back to the ground and stared at his friend. "You really know how to hurt someone. They didn't REJECT me, they just said I needed more practice. And that's what I'm getting."   
Cay shrugged. "What kind of goal is that, anyhow? To want to join the carnival?"   
"Better than follow my brother's footsteps," Autolycus replied somberly. "Can you see me supervising field hands for the rest of my life? Not a chance. No way, no how. I'm gonna see the known world, and maybe a few unknown places as well."   
"But my mother says carnivals are silly, stupid and pointless," Cay added.   
"Didn't your folks meet at a carnival?" Autolycus asked.   
"I think that's why she says that," Cay replied.   


Cay's home wasn't far over the next hill. It was a more chaotic, disheveled place than the home Autolycus shared with his older brother.   
As they approached, they could see a burly man milking a cow. "Hello, father!" Cay called.   
The man looked back over his shoulder. "Ah, thair y' are!" He said in a thick accent. He had a full beard and a wild mane of red hair that looked as if he had never seen a comb. "Dinnae ever get married, Cay... You either, 'Tolycus..."   
"What's wrong, sir?" Autolycus said with a sly grin. He knew full well what was wrong.   
"I'm out 'ere milkin' the bleedin' cow, that's what's wrong!" He spun on them. "Tha's what a woman'll do to ya, boys. One day it's 'Oh, yer so 'andsome,' an' the next thing ya know it's 'go out thar and get me some milk, ya lazy dodger'!" He grunted. "I tell ya one thing, if I had it ta do over agin, I'd'a never saved her from that stampeding bull in the first---"   
A voice called from the house, loud, harsh and female. "Caybr!!! Where's that milk?!?"   
The burly man closed his eyes at the sound of her yelling. "Comin' dear!" He called out in as sweet a voice as he could muster. He turned back to Autolycus and Cay and shook his head. "She who must be obeyed beckons," he whispered in the lowest tone his booming voice could manage, obviously terrified that she might hear him.   
"Cay?" the voice called again. The boy turned and saw his mother leaning out a window. She was a powerfully-built, attractive woman in her early forties, her greying brown hair pulled up in a bun. "Is 'Tolycus staying for dinner?"   
Cay turned to Autolycus. "Want to stay?"   
"What're you having?" Autolycus asked in a whisper.   
Cay turned back. "What're we having?"   
"Haggis and blood pudding!"   
Autolycus groaned softly.   
"I think he has to get back home, mother!" Cay called back.   
"Alright, then, but dinner'll be ready in ten minutes!" his mother replied, then went back to her work in the kitchen.   
"I don't know why you don't like my mom's cooking," Cay said to Autolycus. "It's good!"   
"I'll just have to take your word for it, Cay," Autolycus replied. They strolled back toward the roadway. "So, what do you want to do tomorrow?"   
"Dunno," Cay said. "Want to try to get a look at the new family moving in to that broken-down hut by the waterfall?"   
"New family? I hadn't heard about this." Autolycus grinned. "Any girls my age?"   
"How would I know? All I've heard is that some of the villagers are upset, because the dad's a centaur."   
Autolycus's eyes widened. "Really? I didn't know there were any centaurs in this region!"   
"There aren't," Cay replied. "I think that's why people are upset. Dad says as long as the new neighbors mind their business, he doesn't care if they're dragons." He looked back at his home. "I better get ready for dinner. Maybe we can go over there in the morning and see if we can spot them from a safe distance."   
Autolycus grinned.   
"From a safe distance," Cay repeated deliberately and slowly. "We're not going to risk getting in trouble, not when there's a centaur involved."   
"Of course not," Autolycus replied, then turned and walked off, whistling happily.   


The centaur trotted around the edge of the woods, examining his surroundings suspiciously. He was stern-looking, with sharp chiseled features and a face made all the more angular by his two-inch long goatee. His hair was pale yellow and brushed back, though a few stray threads kept making their way over his eyes and he kept brushing them back instinctively.   
Autolycus and Cay sat in the branches of a tall tree nearby, watching curiously as the man went to work fixing up the broken-down cabin. The centaur was being helped by a younger centaur, a youth of about age 17 with dark brown hair and a friendlier face.   
"I feel guilty watching them work so hard while we just sit here," Cay whispered after a long while.   
"You know how touchy centaurs are," Autolycus replied. "They'd probably just try to stomp us if we went out to help them."   
"How would you know?" Cay asked, a bit annoyed. "You're just relying on stereotypes. They may be the friendliest family you ever know!"   
"Yeah, the dad sure looks friendly," Autolycus said dryly.   
"Look, there's the mom!" Cay said, pointing.   
"Keep your voice down," Autolycus scolded him, then turned his attention that direction. "Wow, she's pretty."   
A 40-ish woman with greying brown hair and serenely beautiful features came out from inside the cabin, carrying sacks of garbage. She spoke briefly to the two centaurs.   
"I was wondering," Cay whispered. "When centaurs and women get married, how do they... you know? I mean, how does it---"   
Autolycus waved a hand as if to dismiss an absurd question. "Well, if you don't know, I'm not gonna explain it to you."   
"You don't know either."   
"Yes I do," Autolycus said defensively. "But you're too young to hear."   
Cay started to get agitated at this when Autolycus shushed him. This ticked Cay off more, until he realized that Autolycus's attention was directed at the cabin.   
Cay glanced over, and did a double-take.   
Trotting out of the cabin was a pretty young 14-year old girl with dark brown hair like her mothers... and a dark brown horse's body below her waist. She wore a oversized tan blouse held together in front by cross-stitching, and golden bracelets and earrings.   
"A female centaur?" Cay questioned. "I thought there were only men centaurs. That's why they marry human women. I mean, how come you never hear anything about them if there are female cen---"   
"Hush!" Autolycus said in a harsh whisper. "They're saying something...."   
He leaned forward, trying to catch the conversation going on by the cabin. Autolycus's foot slipped onto too small a limb, and it snapped, causing Autolycus to fall to the ground. Cay reached forward reflexively, but wasn't quick enough to catch him.   
"What was that?" Came a voice from over at the cabin, followed by the sound of hooves. Autolycus leapt to his feet and started to scramble up the tree when someone grabbed him from behind.   
The father centaur held Autolycus in the air. "A spectator, eh?" he said angrily, jostling the youth. "Well, we don't like intruders on our property!"   
"The boy was just curious," the mother said, coming up beside her husband. "Let him down, Sollenis."   
Sollenis dropped Autolycus and glanced up into the tree. "Another one," he snarled, seeing Cay, who was trying his best to hide up in the branches. "I say we thrash them both."   
"You'll do no such thing!" the woman said, with a fierce determination that caught her husband off-guard. "You go beating the children of villagers, and the villagers will take it out on all of us!"   
Autolycus got to his feet and stood sheepishly, watching the two adults argue.   
"He's a scurvy little bandit, if you ask me," Sollenis said with a snort. "Probably doesn't have any parents, just an urchin thief..."   
"I am NOT a thief!" Autolycus said defensively, then paused when he realized he had just yelled back at an angry centaur.   
Sollenis contemplated him. The two other centaurs, the 17-year old male and the 14-year old female, approached.   
"What's your name, boy?" Sollenis asked.   
"Autolycus."   
"And yours?" Sollenis looked up in the tree.   
"C-Cay, sir."   
"Well, Autolycus and K'Kay, I suggest you two head home now. Are we understood?"   
"Y-yes, sir," came Cay's voice from above. He started to climb down out of the tree under Sollenis's watchful glare.   
Autolycus, meanwhile, glanced at the female centaur, who looked back at him with a curious expression on her face. Her face was prettier up close than he had expected. She had a slightly-upturned nose, high cheekbones, large brown eyes and a younger version of her mother's serenely beautiful features.   
As he stared at her, she blushed and looked away. This caused Autolycus to go flush himself. Then, Cay came up next to him and tugged on his sleeve. "You heard him, let's go!"   
The two boys ran through the woods, Autolycus glancing back occasionally.   


"You can't be serious!" Cay declared.   
The two boys sat in the hay loft of a barn at Cay's home.   
"You're telling me you didn't think she was pretty?" Autolycus questioned.   
"That doesn't matter! She's a centaur!"   
"She's a pretty centaur," Autolycus corrected.   
Cay frowned. "Look, I know you like pretty girls, but this one's A CENTAUR!! With a really mean dad! I can't believe you've got a crush on a centaur!"   
"I don't have a crush," Autolycus said defensively. "But you have to admit, she was pretty."   
"Okay, okay, she was pretty!" Cay replied. "It... doesn't... matter."   
"Think your dad would know much about female centaurs?" Autolycus asked. "Like, why we've never heard of them before?"   
"I doubt it. I was only two when we moved here, but I never heard of any such things on the island we came from. I don't even think they had regular male centaurs there."   


Malakis regarded his younger brother curiously. "What do you mean, FEMALE centaur?"   
Autolycus sat at the dinner table, trying to seem nonchalant. "You know, like there's male centaurs and there's female centaurs..."   
"No, there aren't," Malakis said, dipping the ladle into a bowl of dumplings and re-filling his plate. "There are no female centaurs. It's kind of like how there're no boy calico cats. All centaurs are male. They marry human women, and have either centaur boys or human girls." Malakis took a bite of a dumpling and pondered this. "Why are you even asking me about this?"   
"No reason, just curious. You know, the birds and the bees and the centaurs."   
Malakis scoffed. "We had the conversation about the birds and the bees three years ago, when I caught you and that girl Reunich smooching out in the woods. And as I remember it, you'd heard most of what I could tell you already, and told ME a few things."   
"But we didn't talk about centaurs."   
Malakis rolled his eyes. "We also didn't talk about dragons, or trolls, or ogres, or a lot of other species. Just take my word for it, there are no female centaurs. Okay?"   
"Okay," Autolycus said somberly, nibbling on a dumpling.   


The rain came down in buckets. It had been a miserable, grey couple of days, and in his hut Autolycus was going stir-crazy. He paced back and forth as Cay sat at the table in front of the roaring fire.   
"Don't want to play another round of cards?" Cay asked, obviously disappointed. "Well, how about a dice game?"   
"How about we get out of here?" Autolycus replied.   
"And do what?" Cay wrinkled his nose. "You're not thinking about sneaking back over to the centaur house, are you? 'Cause you have that 'Let's do something Cay doesn't want to do' glint in your eye."   
"What a great idea!" Autolycus said happily. "In this weather, we could sneak up close before they'd notice us!"   
"But---"   
"Haven't you ever wondered what the inside of a centaur home was like?"   
"Not really---"   
"Like, what do they sit on? How do they eat at a table? Don't you want to find out?"   
"Not if it involves going out in this weather," Cay griped. "And not if it involves peeping in people's windows."   
Autolycus rolled his eyes. "I'm not saying we look in their bedrooms, for Zeus' sake! Just get a closer look---"   
"At the girl," Cay finished, crossing his arms. "If the father finds you -- and I'm saying YOU because I'm sure as heck not going -- he'll probably trample you and toss your carcass in the river."   
Autolycus grabbed his coat. "And if that happens, it'll be because you weren't there to watch my back!" he called as he headed out the door.   
Cay sat at the table. "Oh, no, you don't," he muttered. "You're not gonna guilt me into following you. No way, no how." He sat silent for a moment, then grumbled "Aw, damn...", grabbed his poncho, and followed.   


Autolycus had walked the road a few hundred yards before Cay caught up to him.   
"What kept ya?" Autolycus asked with a sly grin.   
"I hate this weather," Cay said, pulling the hood of the poncho over his head. "Aren't you cold?"   
"Of course I'm cold. It's cold out here. So what? You want to be warm and comfortable all your life?"   
"As a matter of fact, yes."   
"Only by experiencing the cold can you appreciate the warmth," Autolycus replied.   
Cay shook his head. "Don't even try to be a philosopher. You're better suited to becoming a con artist or something."   
"There's a difference?" Autolycus asked with a laugh. He then stopped in his tracks, staring at the road beneath them.   
"What is it?" Cay asked, looking down. In the mud, almost washed away by the continuous rain, were multiple sets of hoofprints.   
"There hasn't been this much traffic down here lately, has there?" Autolycus asked, though he was mostly talking to himself. He knelt down to examine the prints more closely. "They're not shod. All the horses in town are, aren't they?"   
"Far as I know," Cay replied. "But what does that---"   
Autolycus broke into a run. Cay watched him, sighed wearily, and took off after him.   
The two boys ran down the muddy road for almost a mile, then cut across into the woods.   
"Would you quit running away?" Cay said, catching his breath. "One of these days, I'm NOT gonna follow you, and you'll be on your own with one of your stupid schemes, and ---"   
Autolycus raised a hand to shush him, then pointed downwards. The hoofprints continued through the woods down toward the centaur's cabin.   
"Could it be angry farmers trying to chase him out?" Cay whispered.   
"Maybe, but I have a feeling---"   
Autolycus stopped talking when he heard yelling up ahead. He and Cay exchanged worried glances, then bounded the rest of the way through the woods.   
At the cabin, Sollenis and his 17-year old son circled near the door, swords drawn.   
Four other centaurs circled the cabin, each of them heavily armed and nasty-looking. One of them carries a torch. Their leader, black-haired with a thick beard, was waving a war club for emphasis as he spoke.   
"Turn her over, Sollenis," the bearded one growled.   
"Not on your life, Trohus," Sollenis replied. "Take your thugs and get out of here, before I---"   
"Before you what?" Trohus interrupted angrily. "You're just a farmer, Sollenis. We're trained warriors. We'll cut you and your boy to shreds before you have a chance to scratch one of us. Then we'll...TAKE... your wife as well as the girl."   
The other three invading centaurs sneered in delight at this thought.   
Sollenis continued to stare hatefully. "You'll touch neither of them."   
"Be reasonable, Sollenis," Trohus said, though he had not switched to a more diplomatic tone and was as sinister-sounding as ever. "Thraesselus wants your daughter for his bride. You would deny a centaur chieftain who has accomplished as much as--"   
"I would," Sollenis interrupted. "Hylonome is too young to be wed, and too smart to be wooed by a brute like Thraesselus."   
Trohus snarled and raised his war club. Just as he started to step forward, a voice -- that of Autolycus -- came from the woods behind them. "Hey! Horseface!"   
Trohus turned. Autolycus poked his head around a tree and jeered, "Your mother's a donkey!"   
"Who are you, whelp?" Trohus said, glowering at him.   
"Your worst nightmare," Autolycus said cockily. "A biped with an attitude." He flung a rock, which Trohus narrowly deflected with his warclub.   
"Get him!" Trohus bellowed as Autolycus took off running through the woods. Two of the thuggish centaurs went after him... then the one in the lead tripped, and the one behind tumbled over him. As the two centaurs struggled to get back up on their feet, Cay dropped the stick he had used to trip the first one and joined Autolycus in running.   
Trohus and the final thug, the one holding the torch, looked at each other, and Trohus nodded. The centaur tossed the torch onto the roof of Sollenis's hut, and then the duo took off after the two boys.   
In the woods, Autolycus glanced back to see that Cay wasn't far behind... and that two speeding centaurs weren't far behind him.   
Autolycus lept onto a fallen log, bounded into a tree, and grabbed hold of a limb. He swung around, vaulted into the air, and came down with his legs wrapped around the limb. He looked back over his shoulder. Cay was almost there, but the centaurs were even closer to him. Trohus was twirling his war club, and the other centaur had his sword ready.   
"This better work," Autolycus muttered as he swung backwards, arcing down while still keeping his legs locked around the limb. As he swung down, he reached out and Cay grabbed his arms, and he pulled Cay up into the tree just before Trohus could swing with the club.   
Cay grabbed another limb and pulled himself up the rest of the way. "That was pretty cool," he admitted to himself. Beneath them, the two centaurs circled the tree.   
"Get down here, you two-legged jackals," Trohus growled.   
"Or what?" Autolycus taunted. "You'll come up and get us?"   
Trohus swung his club against the tree trunk in frustration. Autolycus and Cay got their footings and bounded to another tree. The two other centaurs, who Cay had tripped, joined their comrades and the four of them trotted along on the forest floor, keeping track of the two boys as they made their way from one tree to the next.   
"Where are they going?" one of them asked Trohus.   
"I don't know, but we'll wait them out if it takes til the end of the world. That smart-assed one will pay for his insolence."   
In the trees, Autolycus and Cay looked down at their pursuers. "Where are we going?" Cay whispered.   
"I don't know, we're making this up as we go along," Autolycus replied. "The leader guy's nostrils are flaring. I think I upset him"   
"Will you stop sounding happy about this?" Cay griped. "We're in big trouble."   
"Nah," Autolycus said. "This is just a lark. When we get in big trouble, you'll know it."   
"Swell."   
They bounded to another tree, scrambling higher into its limbs, and Autolycus looked outwards. "Idea!" he said happily. "You wait here!"   
"Finally, an idea I like," Cay replied.   
Autolycus leapt to another tree, then another. Trohus and one of the thugs followed, while the other two circled around the trunk of the tree Cay had stayed in.   
Trohus looked up. "Get down here, boy!"   
A well-aimed pinecone fell from the trees, bouncing off Trohus's head.   
Autolycus vaulted to another tree, swung around a limb, and dropped to the forest floor. Trohus grinned wickedly and took off after him.   
The trees were thinner at this part of the forest, near the river. Autolycus glanced back, then looked up to the river ahead. Because of the heavy rains, the water was flowing faster than usual, and had risen at least a foot. Several rocks protruded out of the water's surface, and the roar of the nearby waterfall was deafening.   
"Please, Zeus, let this work," Autolycus whispered. He leapt out into the river, landing on one of the rocks, then leap-frogged to another one. He looked back as the two centaurs broke through the woods.   
"Think you can escape from me, two-legs?" Trohus said, moving forward menacingly.   
"You lookin' for a fight?" Autolycus said cockily. "Come get some."   
Trohus stepped out into the water, war club ready, and stumbled.   
"Deeper than it looks," Autolycus said with false sympathy. "Oh, looks like you're slipping..."   
Trohus thrashed about and tumbled in the water.   
"Not too easy to get traction, is it?" Autolycus continued. "Horseshoes might've helped...."   
Trohus surged upwards, trying to grab at Autolycus. But the boy ducked, Trohus tumbled once more, then was swept away by the river and carried over the waterfall, screaming furiously the whole time.   
Autolycus got back on his feet, and looked out at the other centaur. "Well, what're ya waiting for? It's your turn!"   
The other centaur looked at him uncertainly, then looked over to where Trohus had just disappeared. "I can wait you out, boy," he said with a growl. "There aren't enough rocks for you to get across the river. You'll have to come back this way."   
"And when he does, he'll get a hero's welcome," came a voice from behind. The centaur turned and his face went pale. There stood Sollenis's 17-year old son holding a bow taut, the arrow aimed at the centaur thug.   
"I'd suggest you leave now, and quietly."   
The centaur thug backed up, then turned and trotted away.   
The boy relaxed his grip on the bow and slid the arrow back into a shaft worn across his back. "Need a lift?" he asked.   


Autolycus rode back to the hut on the back of the 17-year old centaur, whose name he had learned was Arellius. When they arrived, they found the hut intact. "What about the torch?" Autolycus asked. "I thought one of those brutes set your house on fire..."   
"In this rain?" Arellius asked. "We didn't even HAVE to put it out. The straw on the roof was soaked through with water."   
Autolycus got off Arellius's back and followed the youth into the hut. There, Cay was crouched in front of the fireplace, trying to get warm and eating stew.   
Sollenis's wife smiled warmly. "I take it things turned out well?"   
"Not for Trohus, but for this one, yes," Arellius said, motioning to Autolycus.   
Sollenis stepped over. "I still say you were snooping earlier," he says gruffly. "But after what you did to help us, you're welcome here anytime." He reached out and playfully scruffed up Autolycus's hair. "Want some stew, boy? My wife is one of the finest cooks in the province."   
Autolycus nodded enthusiastically.   


The rain came to an end a few hours later. Autolycus and the centaur girl, Hylonome, strolled in the woods near the cabin. "You really saved me back there," Hylonome said softly. "I wasn't going to let them hurt my dad or Arellius, so I was about to surrender..."   
"They'll think twice before coming back after you," Autolycus said, though he didn't quite believe it himself. "Why were they after you?"   
"Because of what I am. I'm a fluke of nature. Daddy says it's been twenty years since the last female centaur was born in this region. And some centaurs believe that if they can mate with a female centaur, the resulting children will be the mightiest warriors imaginable. Thraesselus is just the latest centaur chieftain to try and catch me. We've been hounded since before I was of childbearing age. That's why we've had to move so much."   
"Well, as long as you stay around here, Cay and I will help protect you."   
"That's so sweet," she said, leaning in and kissing Autolycus on the cheek. He blushed furiously at this.   
In the distance, they heard Hylonome's mother, Naella, calling for her.   
"It's so good to make new friends," Hylonome continued, then trotted back to the cabin.   
Autolycus rubbed his cheek and watched as she departed. "Friends?" he said to himself, a bit distastefully. "Aw, man...."   
He followed her back to the cabin, where Cay was arm-wrestling with Arellius.   
"You're pretty strong for a little human," Arellius said, surprised the boy was putting up such a struggle.   
"I inherited it from my dad," Cay replied through clenched teeth. "He was the greatest pugilist in his homeland, and came here to teach others."   
"I may have to visit him, then," Arellius said before finally besting Cay at the arm-wrestling.   
They looked up and saw Hylonome and Autolycus come through the door of the cabin. "You ready to go?" Cay asked, rubbing his sore arm.   
"Sure," Autolycus replied. He turned to Hylonome. "Maybe sometime I .. I mean, we... can show you around the province?"   
"That would be nice," Hylonome said shyly.   
"You boys want us to carry you back to your homes?" Sollenis asked.   
"Thanks, but we can walk," Autolycus answered.   
"Suit yourself."   


Autolycus and Cay walked down the muddy road. "I better head home," Cay said, "It'll be getting dark soon, and my mom will get worried. And when she gets worried about me, she yells at my dad."   
"When she's AWAKE, she yells at your dad," Autolycus said.   
"True. So, what did you and Hylonome talk about when you walked off in the woods?" Cay leaned in, obviously hoping for something juicy.   
"It's a secret," Autolycus replied.   
"You better not have asked her on a date," Cay said. "My sister Reunich will be upset... Come to think of it, so will my sister Ahoondra, and that girl Nysa you've been making googoo eyes at in the village market... and my sister Una, though she's only five and that probably doesn't count...."   
"Hey, I'm not a one-woman man," Autolycus replied.   
"You're not a man, yet," Cay answered sarcastically.   
"You really know how to hurt someone," Autolycus replied.   
They walked along the road a few more paces silently. Finally, Cay said, "So, you never told me how you beat that lead centaur."   
"You shoulda been there!" Autolycus said, perking up. "There I was, on the edge of the river---!"   
And he continued with his story, waving his hands in the air for emphasis, as they headed down the road toward their homes.   


END.   



	3. "Werewolves of Londinium"

Young Autolycus Chronicles, Chapter Two  
"Werewolves of Londinium" **By: OmarSnake**

Twenty-some years ago, in the region that would come to be known as Stonehenge....   


The priests circled around one another, chanting rhythmically. Their dialect was strange, even to the ears of the Gaelic people the priests served as spiritual advisors to. It was an ancient language, conceived by beings unknown to humans and unfathomable to their imaginations, and taught to a select few.   
They were within the confines of a massive circle of stone monoliths, and the full moon shone down on them. The stones were in a circular pattern, and newer stones were gathered around them as part of some construction project not yet completed.   
At a safe distance, a group of outsiders watched.   
Normally, the priests would have run off any spectators... or worse... but these were desperate times, and called for unusual measures.   
At the front of the crowd watching this ceremony was an imposingly tall, muscular man in his early 50s. He had ghost-white hair, worn down to the middle of his back, and a thick greyish-white mustache and eyebrows. His eyes were steel blue and so intense it was hard for those around him to meet his gaze for more than a few seconds. His chest was bare, and his biceps and upper chest were covered with ceremonial tattoos. He wore silver bands on each forearm, and a neckpiece also made of silver; as well as a medallion in the center of his chest. His only clothing was a pair of well-worn brown leather pants and darker brown boots. A sword hung low at one side, and another larger one was strapped across his back.   
Next to him, a wizened woman leaned over to him. She was in her 70s, an unusual age for anyone in their land; she had thinning grey hair and eyes the same shade of blue as his. "Never thought I would live to see such a ceremony. Did you , Sloan?" she said warmly.   
Sloan started to answer, but was interrupted.   
"Show respect, woman," said a man on the other side of Sloan. The speaker was Sloan's age, but much less robust... he was thin, with red-tinged white hair and a generous helping of liverspots. "Refer to the chieftain as 'My Lord'..."   
"I think my aunt can refer to me as she likes, Daeghton," Sloan said, smiling warmly at the old woman. "You, on the other hand, should not interrupt your chieftain when he is about to speak."   
Daeghton went pale at this comment, and turned his attention back to the ceremony.   
Sloan crossed his arms, shifting his balance from one foot to the other. He was a man of action, and didn't particularly enjoy staying still this long. "When will something happen?" he whispered.   
"It is an elaborate ceremony, My Lord," Daeghton replied. "If they have performed it correctly, the Chosen One will appear at the zenith of the night..."   
"We don't have much time," Sloan grumbled. "You know full well that another sect lays claim to these stones." He pointed over to a corner of the field, where two robed figures lay sprawled out on the ground. They were priests of this rival sect, who had been guarding the temple being built around the Stonehenge monoliths. Sloan's archers had killed the two before they had a chance to use their powerful magic spells to defend their territory, but Sloan worried that before long replacements would arrive.   
"It will be daylight before the others of the Dahak sect discover those two," Daeghton said reassuringly. "Until then, our priests will have access to the mystic energy of this site."   
"This had best work," Sloan said impatiently. "Before I conclude that our priests have some connection to our current hardships and have them exiled."   
Daeghton looked distinctly uncomfortable at this comment. He wanted to remind his leader not to speak such ideas when the priests were in listening distance, but he didn't dare correct his chieftain.   
Sloan shifted his balance from one foot to the other again and looked up at the full moon above...   


The full moon shone down on the farmhouse as Cay leaned out his second-story window.   
"That better be a thief out there, and not my friend making all that noise...." He whispered harshly.   
"It's no thief," came a reply from the bushes below.   
Cay rolled his eyes. "Autolycus? What are you doing out here this time of night? Go home."   
"Can't yet," Autolycus replied, poking his head out of the bushes. "Not til I show you this...."   
Cay squinted down at the bushes. "I don't see anything. What are you talking about?"   
"Help me up there and I'll show you." Autolycus waved a scroll of some sort around.   
Cay rolled his eyes. "How about I just make a lot of noise so dad wakes up and thinks you were sneaking over to woo one of my sisters?"   
"You tryin' to get me killed?"   
"At least then, I could get a decent night's rest." Cay grumbled as he tied his bedsheet into a rope and tossed it out the window. Autolycus climbed up it quickly, with Cay bracing against the windowframe and keeping a grip on the sheet. As Autolycus reached the window, Cay took hold of his arm and helped him through.   
"Trust me, this is worth it," Autolycus said, smiling. "You've never seen anything like----"   
The world around them went white. When the light faded, they were in the middle of a circle of stone monoliths, with ominous robed figures surrounding them chanting.   
"---this....", Autolycus continued, his eyes going wide.   
One of the priests stepped forward, chanted something incomprehensible, and blew a puff of grey powder into their faces. Both boys coughed.   
"There, now can you understand?" the priest said.   
"Who are you?" Autolycus asked. "And what did you just do that for?"   
The priest turns to the others. "The powder worked. They can comprehend the tongue of our lands."   
"What lands?" Autolycus continued. "Where are we?"   
Another priest approached. "WHO are you should be the question," he practically hissed, staring deep into Autolycus's eyes. "We cast a spell for the chosen one, and that is not you."   
The priest then turned to Cay. "It is this one."   
Sloan emerged from the nearby crowd, striding determinedly up to Cay. He stared down at the boy, then looked over at one of the priests. "This CHILD? The Chosen One is a child?"   
"Hey, I'm almost 13," Cay protested.   
"It was not time for the Chosen One to come here," the priest replied evenly. "He was not supposed to arrive for another ten years, by which time he would be a grown man. But the necessity of recent events..."   
"Yes, yes," Sloan cut him off indignantly, then turned back to the boy. "You are a good fighter?"   
"Yes," Cay said. "My father, whose name is also Caybr..."   
Sloan waved a hand. "Say no more. I knew a man from the highlands named Caybr, years ago. He was the only man who ever wrestled me to a standstill. So, you are young Caybr, eh? I saw you when you were still an infant suckling at your mother's teat. You seem to have grown into a fine, strapping boy."   
"Thank you, sir." Cay looked around. "Am I... back on the Isles?"   
"You are," Sloan replied. "Welcome home. Now... who is this one, and how did he get here?"   
"My name is Autolycus. And I'm Cay's best friend. You might say I've taught him everything he knows."   
"But fortunately, I forgot most of it," Cay added.   
Sloan laughed boisterously and caught both boys in a headlock.   
"Perhaps the Chosen One was in physical contact with this other boy when we cast the spell," offered one of the priests. "That might have caused him to be transported as well."   
"I was helping him through a window," Cay explained.   
"Very well," Sloan announced. "Your friend Autlicus isn't needed here, but you are, desperately."   
"It's Autolycus!" Autolycus protested. "And what do you mean, I'm NOT needed?"   
Sloan spun on him. "Have you ever fought an arcane evil?"   
Autolycus took a step back. "Well, I ... define 'arcane'."   
Sloan turned his attention back to Cay. "You, though, are the Chosen One. And you must fight for us, in a battle even I am not able to win."   
"A battle YOU aren't able to win?" Cay asked, looking up and down at the muscular figure in front of him. "I don't think I'm the one you're looking for...I've never fought any arcane evil either..."   
Sloan waved a hand to the crowd, and two men emerged carrying a sack. Something inside the sack was wriggling around, and the men were trying to keep it at arm's length. They rushed over, dropped the sack at Cay's feet, and stepped back.   
Sloan bent down, opened the sack, and emptied it. Something rolled out.   
It appeared to be the decapitated head of a wolf, but it was a more ferocious-looking creature than Cay or Autolycus had ever seen. And... it was still alive. The head snarled and snapped, the eyes focusing on the two boys with pure, untainted hatred. The fact that no body was attached did nothing to faze it.   
Autolycus took two steps back. Cay, on the other hand, stared down at it.   
"It's the most damage we've ever done to one of the beasts," Sloan said. "And we know it will regenerate within a few days, growing another body. Nothing we do will contain it. You are the only one with the power to---"   
Cay silently reached a hand out to Sloan. The chieftain looked down at the hand uncertainly, then looked into Cay's eyes.   
Sloan unsheathed his sword and placed it in Cay's hand. Cay lifted the blade and stared down at the wolf's head, which was snarling more ferociously than ever. As he gripped the sword, it took on a faint luminescence. Cay brought it down, and it pierced through the wolf's head. The creature let out a scream of fury and then the head went limp. As Cay looked down at it with no sign of emotions, the head burst into flames, the flesh burning away and shrinking back to reveal a very human skull. Cay lifted the sword again and offered it back to Sloan, who stared down at the skull and then looked back to Cay. "You keep the blade," Sloan said.   
Sloan turned to his people, who stood huddled together. "We have our Wolfslayer!!" He cried, and the audience cheered.   
Cay shook his head, as if coming out of a spell, and looked down at the skull. "Whoa," he whispered, looking over at Autolycus, who watched wordlessly.   


The boys followed Sloan as he strode up a hillside. "We hope that you will succeed where my men have failed," Sloan explained over his shoulder. "Invaders from the south have set up an outpost down by the riverside." They reached the top of the hill and he waved a hand. Cay and Autolycus looked down to a wide river that crossed through the countryside in the distance; along its banks was a cluster of tents, some of the campfires still burning at this late hour.   
"At first we paid the invaders little attention," Sloan continued. "My concerns were with a religious sect that is building its temple around those ancient stones back where we brought you here. You saw the construction work."   
"Why haven't you or the druids fought them back?" Cay asked. "Those monoliths are ancient, and I can sense their mystic power."   
Sloan shrugged. "My men are no match for the powerful magicks of the Dahak sect, and our druids are too set in their ways to adapt quickly enough to fight back. One of our prophets says that within the next quarter-century, their sect will lay in ruins and the monoliths will be restored to their former glory."   
Sloan leaned on a tree. "Such are the politics of trying to lead a tribe in this land," he sighed. "While we were focused on this sect, the soldiers from the south arrived. We became concerned after a few confrontations with these invaders, who have superior arms to ours, but we knew we had them far outnumbered. But they brought something else with them..."   
"The werewolves," Cay said grimly.   
Autolycus cocked an eyebrow. "How d'you know what they're called?"   
"I just... do," Cay replied.   
Sloan smiled. "He's the Wolfslayer, son," he explained to Autolycus. " He is at his peak against werewolves, but can do battle with any creature that draws its power from the nether realm.."   
"Tartarus?" Autolycus asked.   
Sloan didn't understand the reference, and just shrugged. "Eons ago, the predecessors of our druids opened a gateway between this world and another, more sinister one. If that's the name your people have for the sinister world, then yes. Werewolves are one of the lesser evils that came through that gateway."   
"Lesser?" Autolycus asked, contemplating. "And you can't fight them?"   
"No," Sloan replied. "But the druids made sure that each generation would have a chosen few that could fight them. Your highlander friend is the wolf slayer. An old woman from my homeland, an island called Eire just northwest of here, is this generation's vampire slayer. The most recent ghoul slayer was herself slain, and we await the birth of the next one. And there are more. We try to keep track of them all, for when they are needed. But there are many creatures of darkness."   
"Werewolves, vampires, ghouls?" Autolycus sounded skeptical. "Never heard of 'em. You sure you're not making up all these words?"   
Sloan shook his head. "If only that were so---" he trailed off, looking up.   
Cay was starting to walk down the hill toward the camp. "Not safe, lad," Sloan said, but he didn't dare try to stop the boy.   
Sloan glanced over at Autolycus. "It's not safe for you to go with him. You have no protection against the forces of evil..."   
"Who needs protection?" Autolycus scoffed. "I can do just fine with my natural prowess and lightning-   
fast---"   
Sloan punched Autolycus in the stomach, and the boy bent over coughing.   
"---re..flexes..." Autolycus finished with a wheeze. "What'd you do that for?"   
"Testing your reflexes," Sloan replied. "They need work. But I think Cay would be safer with someone to watch his back." He took off his medallion and put it over Autolycus's head, then handed him a dagger.   
"The dagger is made of silver. You can damage the beasts temporarily with it, but they will heal eventually. The medallion... has special properties. I should keep it myself to protect the village, but if you are not able to protect Cay, it may not be enough anyhow."   
Autolycus looked down at the medallion. "What kind of properties?"   
"It will show you. Now hurry, before your friend reaches the camp."   
Autolycus nodded and rushed to catch up with Cay.   
Sloan watched them for a long moment, then sighed and looked up to the sky. "They're brave lads, Dagda," he whispered. "Watch over them."   


It didn't take Autolycus long to catch up, since Cay was striding and not running.   
"What's happening to you?" Autolycus asked, concerned about his friend's steely gaze, which remained fixated on the camp.   
"They're down there," Cay said. "And there are a lot of them. You won't be safe."   
"I'll be fine," Autolycus replied with a grin.   
"Look, this is my fight!" Cay said harshly.   
"Your fights are mine too," Autolycus replied. "And mine are yours. That's the way it's been since we saved that little girl back when we first met six years ago. If you're going to march into a camp filled with 'werewolves', then, by Zeus, I am too!"   
Cay sighed. "Okay, but be careful."   
"Aren't I always?"   
"Be... careful..." Cay repeated, more sternly.   
Autolycus nodded enthusiastically.   
"Look," Cay said, leaning on the sword he still held. "We have no idea what kind of foul evil dwells in that camp down there!"   


In the camp, Roman soldiers sat around a campfire watching and laughing boisterously as five prostitutes danced and stripped for them.   
Two 13-year old boys circled through the group of soldiers, carrying pitchers of beer.   
One of the boys was rail-thin and blond, with big eyes that practically bulged as he caught glances of the dancing girls. The other boy, brunette with scraggly teeth despite his young age, was similarly fixated on them as he walked through the crowd with a tray full of food.   
One of the soldiers slapped the blond-haired boy in the back of the head. "Servant boy!" he snorted. "Pay attention to your tasks!"   
"Y-yes, sir," the boy whined, refilling their mugs of beer.   
"Do a better job or I'll flog you myself," the soldier continued.   
"Y-yes, sir, thank you sir, sorry sir," the boy said, retreating.   
The soldier shook his head and glanced at his comrades. "Don't know WHY Flavius didn't bring eunuchs to be the servants," he said grumpily.   
The blond-haired boy ran back to a tent. Inside was a beer barrel where he refilled his pitcher.   
He looked up at the brunette boy. "Hey, Gluteus Cranius, did you see that one girl in the middle?" the blond boy said with a giggle.   
"Yeah," the other boy replied. "She had big thingies, huh huh huh."   
"Sure did," the blond boy said, staring back. He heard a thud and looked back over to his friend. "What was that noise, Glute--" before he could finish his friend's name, Autolycus's fist had made contact.   


Cay and Autolycus moved cautiously out of the tent, Autolycus carrying a tray of food and Cay carrying the pitcher of beer.   
"What if they catch us?" Autolycus whispered.   
"They're not looking at the servants," Cay replied.   
"No wonder," Autolycus said, staring at the dancing wenches. "Look at the one in the middle..."   
"Look, just act casual. I'll walk through the crowd and see if I can sense who among them are werewolves..."   
Autolycus moved cautiously through the crowd, trying not to draw attention to himself. There were plenty of Roman soldiers, and most of them were drunk.   
One looked up at him suspiciously and started to rise. Autolycus braced himself to run.   
"Haven't seen you two before," the soldier growled.   
Autolycus glanced around to see where Cay was before realizing. "There's only one of me, sir," he said meekly.   
"Don't tell me how many of you there are!" The soldier growled, more angrily.   
Autolycus handed him a roast chicken leg, and the soldier turned his attention to eating it. By the time he looked back up, Autolycus had made a strategic departure.   
Meanwhile, Cay kept refilling mugs and examining the soldiers.   
He was growing increasingly frustrated, when he looked up and squinted at the dancers. Cay's jaw dropped and he started moving back out of the crowd.   
He nudged Autolycus, who dropped the contents of his tray into the lap of a particularly rowdy cluster of soldiers, who promptly tore into the food.   
Autolycus followed Cay back to the tent.   
"The dancers," Cay whispered. "They're werewolves."   
"Are you sure?"   
"I sensed it," Cay replied.   
"We can't fight girls!" Autolycus said. "Well, women. We still can't fight them! My mother always told me not to--"   
"Your mother never met a werewolf," Cay interrupted. "We've got to--"   
"Die," came a new voice. The two boys turned, and were met with the harsh stare of one of the semi-clad dancers. She stood in the doorway of the tent. Apart from her scowl, she was pretty, with blonde hair almost down to her waist and an hourglass figure. She smiled, and her teeth began to elongate into fangs.   
Her face jutted forward into a wolf's muzzle and she leapt into the air toward them....   


Cay grabbed the tray from Autolycus's hands. As soon as he touched it, the tray was surrounded by the faint luminescence. Autolycus dove under the table. There was a loud crack, and then a thud. The blonde, now half-wolf half-human, fell dazed to the floor.   
Cay stood there, holding the tray -- which was cracked in half. The werewolf began to stir as the two boys ran toward the woods.   
"That was amazing," Autolycus panted. "You can turn anything into a weapon!"   
"That was too easy," Cay replied. "They were just testing me, sending a sacrificial lamb... well, wolf... to see if I really had the power."   
"But the only werewolves you sensed were those five dancers..."   
"That was among those soldiers," Cay explained. "There have to be a lot more soldiers elsewhere in the camp. Some of them must be infected too."   
Something moved in the woods. The boys looked around.   
"I don't like the looks of this," Autolycus muttered.   
Suddenly, the bushes around them gave way to six wolf-creatures.   
In full transformation, not partial like the dancer back in the tent, they resembled enormous, hideous wolves. Autolycus had seen dire wolves during a trip to the Northlands when he was ten, and never wanted to see one of them again. But dire wolves were puppies compared to these beasts.   
Cay backed against a tree and drew his sword, which took on the luminescent glow. Autolycus, meanwhile, scrambled up another tree.   
Two of the wolves headed for him while the other four moved toward Cay.   
The two beneath Autolycus circled around the tree trunk, glaring up hatefully. They leapt and snapped, but couldn't reach him.   
Meanwhile, Cay swung, striking one of the wolves. Before he could swing again, the others were on him.   
Autolycus looked down helplessly, then noticed the wolves beneath him. They had morphed to the halfway point and, as humanoid wolves, were able to start climbing the tree.   
Autolycus glanced back at the three wolves attacking Cay, and grimaced. "I hope this medallion does what it's supposed to," he muttered, pulling out the silver dagger and flinging it. It hit one of the three wolves in the back, and the creature howled and fell back.   
Autolycus scrambled further along on the tree limbs as the two humanoid wolves came at him. One was female, and quite well-endowed; the other was male, with long muscular limbs and a particularly hateful glare.   
Cay grabbed the silver dagger out of the back of the fallen werewolf and swung it in one hand with the sword in the other. His clothes were torn, but he had not been bitten.   
Autolycus leapt to an adjacent tree, and then swung on its limbs to reach another. The humanoid wolves chasing him proved agile enough to keep up.   
Autolycus grasped the medallion, closed his eyes for a split-second to pray, and then spun around.   
The wolf-woman lurked back on the last tree they had been on, while the wolf-man had followed Autolycus to this new tree. It snarled hatefully and raised its clawed hands.   
Autolycus held up the medallion, gripping it firmly, and grimaced. "Please do something, medallion.."   
The boy's motion confused the wolf-man, which regarded the medallion curiously.   
Suddenly, a silver spike shot three feet out from the medallion, piercing the wolf-man's skull. As quickly as it had appeared, the spike retracted.   
The wolf-man fell to the forest floor, dead and bursting into flames before he hit the ground. The skeleton that hit the ground was fully human.   
"Thanks," Autolycus said to the medallion, which he looked down at cautiously.   
The wolf-woman leapt to a different tree and then to the ground, where she beat a hasty retreat. Autolycus looked down and saw Cay panting. One of the werewolves lay dead at his feet, still burning, and the other two were running away and wounded.   
Autolycus jumped down from the tree and ran to check his friend. "You alright?" he asked.   
"I'm fine," Cay replied. "Well, I mean... I never killed anyone before, and now, in one day..."   
"These aren't people," Autolycus said. "They're monsters..."   
Their voices were suddenly drowned out by howls and screams.   
The boys ran to the edge of the woods and looked out over the camp. The drunken soldiers were being swarmed by dozens and dozens of werewolves. "Uh-oh," Cay muttered.   
It was a short, bloody conflict. A silver wolf, larger than the rest, strode through the carnage, looking around as the other wolves tore at their victims. The wolf-woman who had been chasing Autolycus ran out to him and snarled, pointing towards the woods. Autolycus and Cay turned and ran as the silver wolf howled, getting the attention of all the other werewolves.   


Dozens of werewolves roamed the area, sniffing in the air. Down by the riverside, two wolves stalked around, staring out at the water. Howls came from another part of the valley and they bounded in that direction.   
After a moment, Autolycus's head popped above water and he gasped for air.   
Cay also surfaced, though more cautiously.   
"Look, Cay, there's no way we can fight them all. There's just too many. While we're fighting one, five will be biting us..."   
"And infecting us," Cay said quietly.   
"And what?"   
"Infecting us. The bite of a werewolf causes its victim to become one as well."   
Autolycus's eyes widened. "And you didn't tell me this earlier because??"   
"I didn't know it myself. It's like my mind is gradually providing me with information."   
"This Chosen One business is starting to creep me out," Autolycus said.   
"Creep YOU out?" Cay gasped. "You think I WANT to be a 'Wolfslayer'? No, I want to be a pugilist like my dad! A simple, happy-go-lucky pugilist, fighting in boxing matches at street fairs!"   
"Maybe your dad moved you out of these islands so you'd be further away from the werewolves," Autolycus suggested as they waded downstream, never getting more than their heads above water.   
"Maybe," Cay admitted. "They were always really protective of me when I was little, and they never did explain why they moved. I just figured dad had made too many enemies and wanted a fresh start."   
"Your dad loves having enemies," Autolycus replied. "He goes to auctions just to outbid people."   
Cay nodded. "I'll have to talk to him about this. But these soldiers are from Rome. If they brought the werewolfism with them, there must be ones in our part of the continent."   
"What if the prostitutes were the initial werewolves, and they infected some of the soldiers?" Autolycus asked. "But the prostitutes looked Roman too."   
Cay put a finger in the air. "We know these Roman soldiers are part of a scouting expedition. Usually, those involve soldiers, workers, scouts, and a few servants and the prostitutes that follow along with big armies. Theory: someone in the expedition was a werewolf. He or she infected some of the others, but not all. They had to feed on someone, after all. I'll bet those drunk soldiers we saw were newcomers to the camp, reinforcements from Rome or something..."   
"And the werewolves didn't need any more in their pack, so they got them all drunk and made an easy meal of 'em?" Autolycus finished.   
Cay nodded. "That's what makes the most sense to me."   
"Maybe," Autolycus admitted. "If there ARE werewolves elsewhere in the continent, they must be less common back in Greece, since we've never heard of them."   
"That's not really our first concern here," Cay replied. "Our first concern is, how do we stop 37 werewolves?"   
"37?"   
"I counted."   
"When did--" Autolycus dropped the question. "What else are they vulnerable to? Silver, weapons in your hands, this medallion..."   
"Fire," Cay said. "Magic. That's about it."   
"Is there like a central one you can kill and cause the others to lose their powers?"   
"Afraid not. But..."   
"But what?"   
Cay contemplates. "It's risky. It might even be suicidal. But.."   
"I don't like that suicidal bit, what do you have in mind?"   
Cay lunged out of the water. "Follow me, and let's hope the werewolves catch our scent."   
Autolycus followed. "Let's hope they DO catch our scent?" he asked incredulously.   


The druid priest stared in disbelief. "It's impossible, Chosen One!" he gasped.   
"It better not be impossible, priest. It's the only way this is going to work."   
Cay and Autolycus stood in front of the Stonehenge monoliths and the unfinished temple being built around it. The boys were out of breath, and Autolycus leaned against one of the pillars. The priests were there, as was Sloan.   
The priest turned to confer with some of the other druids.   
"You gonna explain this plan to me?" Autolycus asked. "I heard what you want them to do, but WHY?"   
"Just trust me." Cay looked in the distance. "You don't have much time, priest," He said over his shoulder. The druids looked up, and saw a cloud of dust in the distance. They huddled together for another few seconds, by which time the pack of snarling werewolves were visible in the distance.   
The druids started to chant. Mystic energy started to swirl around them.   
"Okay," Cay said to Autolycus. "When we go through, we run like Hermes."   
"I've always been able to outrun you," Autolycus said.   
"But can you outrun a werewolf?"   
"Doesn't matter as long as I can outrun YOU," Autolycus said with a grin.   
As the chanting continued, the werewolves drew closer. They were howling angrily, the silver wolf in the lead.   
Cay stepped over to Sloan and whispered something to him. The large man nodded.   
"Let's do it," Cay said.   
Autolycus glanced at him. "You know, I've always been the leader. This is the first time you've really been the one telling ME what we should do... well, first time I've had an inclination to listen, at any rate."   
"And?"   
"I don't like it," Autolycus replied with a smirk.   
The priests finished their chant, and the space in front of them rippled. The boys ran and dove into this rippling area.   


Their feet came down, and they were still in the midst of the columns of Stonehenge. But it was different somehow. The sky was red, the grass dark and the trees in the distance forbidding. There were no priests, no Sloan, and no werewolves... yet. Autolycus looked around. There was no sign of the construction work they had seen on the other side; the ancient monoliths on this side were undisturbed by human hands.   
"This is a nether realm?" Autolycus asked. "I expected... I dunno, brimstone or something."   
The boys ran across the field, and behind them dozens of werewolves materialized, coming through the ripple in space. They barely slowed down.   
As they ran, Autolycus glanced around. "What are those things flying over there?" he questioned.   
"No time to find out," Cay replied. "But if they're here, they've got to be evil."   
"It's hard to breathe, you know," Autolycus continued.   
"I know, we won't be here long... unless this fails. Give me the medallion."   
Autolycus flipped the medallion to his friend, and the boys looked back at the werewolves, who were closing the gap.   
As the boys got closer to the woods, Cay looked down at the medallion and concentrated.   
It lost its medallion shape, morphing into a long metallic pole. Cay shifted it in his hand, tipped the front of it toward the ground, and pole-vaulted into the trees.   
Autolycus remained on foot, and the werewolves were getting even closer.   
He ran through the thick briars at the edge of the woods, yelping from the pain. He stumbled, and started to fall, the wolves moving in for the kill... when a silvery rope dropped from the trees above. He grabbed it and was yanked upwards just before the silver wolf could snap its jaws onto him.   
Cay stood on a high limb, looking down confidently. He pulled Autolycus up, then concentrated and the medallion morphed back into its original shape.   
"That thing is darn handy," Autolycus said.   
"Simple, really. If you know what you need... and you've got the mental power, like I do," Cay grinned, "you can make it assume whatever shape you need, even if it has to get bigger to do it. I'd assume there's a limit to what it can do, probably nothing more than simple shapes like ropes, spikes and poles..."   
"How about you make it into something we can use to get the Hades out of here," Autolycus said. Below them, some of the werewolves were shifting to humanoid form and climbing into the trees. The boys raced through the trees, and Cay held the medallion out to have it morph back into pole shape. Autolycus grabbed hold of his friend's back, and the two boys pole-vaulted back to the ground just outside the cluster of trees. They hit the ground running, as the wolves were quick to catch on.   
Cay grasped the pole as it morphed back into medallion shape. "If this doesn't work, the medallion's our only chance to last more than a few minutes in the nether realm," Cay yelled.   
The boys ran back to the monument, and dove through the ripple in space. As they went in, Cay yelled...   


"NOW!!"   
As soon as they heard Cay's command, the priests pulled apart. The swirling energy dissipated, and the ripple in space vanished in a split-second.   
The snarling wolves the boys heard behind them were suddenly silenced. They leaned back, gasping for breath.   
Sloan strode over to them. "It worked?" he asked.   
Cay nodded wearily.   
"Good." Sloan pointed over his shoulder, where a woman lay wriggling on the ground. She was a buxom brunette, her face was contorted with sheer hatred. Sloan's silver neckpiece was bent around her wrists like handcuffs, and were obviously causing her great pain.   
"And a good idea, lad, to keep one of 'em behind."   
Cay walked over and knelt beside her. "Has she told you anything?" he asked Sloan.   
"Not much. But it seems there aren't any more of them. But we'll interrogate her, and find out where the werewolves came from."   
"You'll need this," Cay said, holding out the medallion.   
Sloan looked down at it. "Not as much as you will, lad. That's the Shield of Reidun. One of your predecessors crafted it from enchanted metal. It's best used by a slayer, and only works against the supernatural." He grinned. "So if ya run into normal human bandits, boy, watch out, it won't do ya much good."   
Cay examined the medallion. "But... if I keep it, what happens to you?"   
"We have silver," Sloan replied. "Not much, but it's enough to keep this one weakened. The shield is supposed to be held by the Wolfslayer; I was just holdin' on to it til you arrived."   
He glances down at the woman, who snarls angrily. "I'll see if our priests can strip the werewolfism from this one, turn her human again... or, if that's not possible, we'll toss her into the nether realm." He looked around. "Daylight will come soon. We'd best get away from the monoliths, before the priests of Dahak return and find us here. And it's time for you two to return home."   
Sloan extended a hand. Cay shook it.   
"We'll try our best not to bother you til it's your time," Sloan said. "For now, be a boy. Scrape yer knees, get in trouble, look at pretty girls, the usual."   
"I can help him with that," Autolycus offered.   


In Cay's bedroom, there was a sudden burst of white light. When it faded, the two boys stood there, looking at one another.   
"Phew," Cay exhaled, plopping down on his bed.   
Autolycus slumped against the wall. "You don't mind if I crash here til morning, do you?" he said. "Just toss me a pillow. I could sleep on rocks at this point."   
"I know what you mean," Cay mumbled as he threw one of the pillows off the bed to his friend.   
Autolycus buried his face in it and rolled part of a throw rug over himself for a blanket.   
After a moment of silence, Autolycus looked up. "So what are you going to do with your newfound powers?"   
"Nothing, til the next time I meet one of those werewolves," Cay said with a yawn. "Which I hope won't be for a long, long time." He looked at the medallion carefully. "This thing'll come in handy til my abilities are fully developed. Maybe when I don't need it anymore, I'll give it to you so you can stay out of trouble."   
"Trouble? Moi?" Autolycus protested, though he was too tired to put much effort into it.   
"Let's get some sleep," Cay said, stretching, and fell back onto his pillows.   
There was another moment of silence.   
"Say, what was it you were coming over to show me anyhow?" Cay asked.   
"Doesn't seem so important now," Autolycus replied with a yawn. "There's a festival in town this weekend, with gypsies and all, and you shoulda seen the poster of the dancing girl who's gonna be their star attraction. But I think I dropped the poster back in your homeland."   
Cay yawned widely. "As long as she's not a werewolf," he sighed.   
The boys were silent again, and began to snore, when a rooster crowed.   
Cay's eyes shot open and he moaned.   
"Cay!" he heard his mother calling from downstairs. "Time to wake up, boy! Breakfast is on the table, and you've got lots of chores!"   
Cay stumbled out of bed, looked over at his friend --- who had buried his head under the pillow --- and headed out his bedroom door. "Coming, mother," he moaned. He turned back. "If you were a TRUE friend, you'd help me with the chores."   
"You got that right," Autolycus groaned, burying his face back in the pillow and falling back to sleep.   
Cay grumbled and slammed the door shut as hard as he could, then headed down to breakfast.   


END.   



	4. "Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves"

Young Autolycus Chronicles, Chapter Three  
"Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves" **By: OmarSnake**

Twenty-some years ago, just outside the Kingdom of Scyros...   


The dancer undulated on the stage, and the men in the crowd watched her with their eyes wide. A few let their jaws hang open; one or two even drooled a bit. Several were elbowed by their wives, who scowled disapprovingly.   
The dancer was an exotic, strikingly attractive if not conventionally beautiful gypsy woman with aquiline features and disheveled, flowing dark brown hair. She wore a tight, low-cut blouse, which accentuated her voluptuous bosom, and a wraparound dress. Her feet were bare, her toes adorned with rings and bells worn around her ankles.   
Her eyes were closed as she gyrated in time to the music being played by two gypsy men seated on the edge of the stage. One, an elderly man with a pudgy face, a handlebar mustache and a warm smile, was playing a lute. The other, a handsome but unfriendly-looking man in his early 20s, beat on bongo-like drums.   
The stage was little more than a few boards hastily slapped together, with decorative sashes hung along the sides. It was set up in the midst of a carnival now taking place in the woods just outside Scyros.   
Most of the audience members were simple peasants, though there were a few wealthy folk and even minor aristocrats here and there. In other parts of the gypsy camp, vendors were selling exotic foods, and people were having their fortunes told or competing in games of chance or skill.   
But at the moment, most of the men who had come to the carnival were entranced by the dancer. She twirled on the stage, her vivid green eyes opening briefly and sweeping across the crowd with a come-hither gaze. Grown men shuddered, as did not-yet-grown boys...   
Specifically, 14-year old Autolycus and his 12-year old best friend, Cay, who were in the front row beside Autolycus's older brother Malakis. Cay went beet-red from embarrassment when he thought the dancer had focused her eyes on him. Whether it was his imagination or not, no one could say. Autolycus, meanwhile, moved his head back and forth in perfect time with her movements. His eyelids were droopy, as if he were literally being put into a trance, and the textbook definition of a 'stupid grin' played across his lips. Malakis had a similar expression on his face.   
The music had been building to a crescendo, and as it did, the dancer's movements became more wild and primal; if she had let out a panther-like growl, it would not have come as a surprise. But she remained silent, gyrating a few more times before coming to a stop just as the music ended. The suddenness of the stop caused many of the men (along with Autolycus and Cay) to snap their heads back.   
The dancer took a bow, and kept it while the mustached gypsy man got up and walked to the center of the stage. The men in the audience cheered and hooted, and those who were with their wives got elbowed again, or at the very least given a withering stare.   
"My own daughter Revekkah!" The gypsy man proclaimed proudly in a thick Romanian accent. "A hand for her, once again!"   
The audience continued its applause as the dancer twirled around once more, blew a kiss, and danced off-stage.   
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, a special treat!" The elderly man continued. "Anton the Juggler!!"   
A smattering of applause greeted the gypsy youth who came out on stage next, holding in his hands two lit torches and two small axes. Part of the crowd disbanded.   
In the front row, Autolycus abruptly said "I'm hungry," and headed off. Cay followed, but Malakis remained, waiting to see if the juggler would make a mistake.   
After they were out of the crowd and moving through the rest of the carnival, Autolycus let out a gasp. "She was AMAZING!", he sighed. "Absolutely, totally, unbelievably amazing!"   
"She was really pretty," Cay admitted.   
"Pretty? Ha!" Autolycus replied. "I'd say--"   
"Amazing?" Cay interrupted.   
"My thoughts exactly." The boys stopped in front of a vendor who was cooking shish kabobs. Autolycus presented a coin and got one for himself and another for his friend.   
Cay nodded appreciatively and tore into his while Autolycus ate more slowly. There was plenty to see at the carnival, and their heads bobbed from one side to the other practically every step. They didn't notice a cloaked figure that appeared to be following them.   
"So, do you think she'd like me?" Autolycus asked wistfully.   
Cay wiped his chin with his sleeve and stared incredulously. "Who? The dancer? Are you kidding??"   
"Why not?" Autolycus asked. "I'm handsome, I'm charming..."   
"You're 14," Cay replied. "She's probably twice your age. You saw the little crows' feet around her eyes..."   
"Those eyes," Autolycus sighed. Then, he snapped out of the stupor he was about to fall into. "Anyhow, I'll be 15 in a few weeks."   
Cay rolled his eyes as he finished the last bit of meat on his kabob. "Will you give it a rest?" he griped. "Yes, girls DO find you cute for some odd reason," Cay admitted. "Goodness knows, I've heard it enough from all four of my sisters. But they're your age or younger."   
"How about your mom? Does she think I'm cute?" Autolycus asked.   
Cay stared at him.   
Autolycus rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to make a move on your mom, Cay," he said wearily. "I just mean, has she ever said anything? Because I wondered if older women would find me attractive..."   
"Dunno," Cay said, almost under his breath.   
"She has said something, hasn't she?" Autolycus said with a grin.   
Cay sighed. "Yes, alright, she has. She told my sister Reunich that you were a 'handsome little rascal' just like some boy she fooled around with when she was your age, back in the highlands. That was right before she dragged Reunich off for a 'mother-daughter chat'. You remember, it was about six months ago, when dad caught you and Reunich down by the lake smooching."   
Autolycus stroked his chin. "So, girls our age think I'm cute. And women as old as your mom think I'm 'handsome'. That dancer is somewhere between the two, wouldn't you say?"   
Cay grunted impatiently. "If I get to 'say' something here, let me say 'She's out of your league, get over it!' Okay? Let's go get our fortunes told!" Cay pointed over to one of the tents, obviously trying to change the subject.   
"Oh, all right," Autolycus sighed. Then, he perked up a bit. "Maybe I can ask the fortune teller about whether the dancer will--"   
Cay grabbed his friend's arm and yanked hard, pulling him toward the tent.   


To say the gypsy woman was old would have been an understatement. She looked prehistoric, with sunken features and wrinkles on every visible inch of skin. Her eyes were piercing green, just like the dancer's, and her hair was sparse and snow-white. Enormous hoop earrings hung so low from her earlobes it was a surprise they didn't pull her head down, and her entire body seemed so frail a strong wind might snap her bones.   
But she had a fire in her eyes, and her voice was low and unquavering. "You have a very long lifeline," she said to Autolycus as she looked at his palm. "Surprisingly long," she continued.   
Autolycus grinned. "Glad to hear it."   
"And in matters of love..." She looked deeper into his palm. "You will have great success at courtship, but not in long-term involvements." She grinned a bit, revealing several missing teeth. "But that won't bother you, I'll wager. If you marry, it will be late in life."   
"The day I get married is the day Hephaestus's forge freezes over," Autolycus said resolutely to Cay, who sat beside him. "Well, unless that dancer accepts my proposal..."   
Cay chuckled.   
"And you will have great success with your chosen career, perhaps even aspiring to be the greatest in the known world, although such a position will be difficult to obtain and even more difficult to keep. But you are a bright young man, and your ability to improvise will serve you well," the old gypsy continued. "In your journeys, you will meet many famous people, and make many allies and many enemies..."   
"Yeah, fine, but back at the loveline," Autolycus interrupted. "Does it say anything about older women?"   
The crone looked at his hand, and then up at him. "You will lose your virginity to a woman older than yourself... possibly as much as twice your age... " she said.   
Cay chuckled under his breath, and Autolycus went flush.   
"But not in the immediate future," she continued. "Your loveline also shows several girls and women who will move into and out of your life as the years pass. You'll be a very busy young man..."   
"Could I ask about a specific woman?"   
"No," the crone replied. "Unless she was here, and I could gaze at her palm as well..."   
Autolycus rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "Well, um... No, she's not here..."   
The old woman smiled knowingly, then turned her attention to Cay.   
"Your left hand shows your past," the gypsy woman said, "your right hand shows your future..."   
"I heard you give the speech to Autolycus a few minutes ago," Cay said, extending his right hand. "I know my past, what about my future?"   
The old woman looked at his palm. Then she looked up at his face, and back at his palm. "Your lifeline is very odd," she said, clearly perplexed. She touched a boney finger against a fleshy part of his palm. "It ends here, but..."   
The gypsy woman was interrupted by yelling from outside the tent. She got up slowly, arthritis coursing through her joints, while the two boys scrambled to the tent flap and looked out.   
Several men were yelling.   
"Filthy scum, get out of here!" one called, shaking his fist angrily. The man was in his late 30s, a stocky farmer with a deep tan and weathered features.   
He was yelling at a handsome young man, about 17 with dark brown hair... and a horse's body starting where his waist ended. He was Arellius, a centaur youth who Autolycus and Cay had befriended a month earlier."I have as much right to be here as you do," Arellius protested.   
The farmer grumbled and moved forward, though two of his friends were trying to hold him back.   
Autolycus and Cay ran up, moving past a cloaked figure that had been lingering near the tent. "What's going on?" Autolycus asked as he approached.   
"Farmer Deetrus wants me to live in the woods and never come out," Arellius said, pointing a thumb at the farmer. "But he doesn't realize that he can't bully me."   
A muscular bald gypsy man stepped between the two. "There will be no fighting!" he said in a commanding voice. He turned and addressed the small crowd that had gathered. "We gypsies have long appreciated diversity, and the fact that the kind visitors to our carnivals do not mind that we are different from them. I would invite you all to show this centaur the same hospitality you would any other man."   
There were murmurs, some of agreement and some of disagreement, but the crowd dispersed and Deetrus walked off, still fuming.   
Arellius looked over at the two boys. "Oh, thank the elders!" he said, and trotted over to them. "I didn't think I'd see a single friendly face!"   
"Hope that didn't make you mad," Cay said. "Just remember, not all of us think that way."   
"Oh, he wasn't mad just because I'm a centaur," Arellius confided in the two boys, whispering.   
"Really?"   
"His daughter has a thing for me," Arellius continued.   
"Agalia?" Autolycus asked, obviously impressed. "The one with the big---"   
"That's the one," Arellius interrupted. "I'm pretty sure my being a centaur makes him madder about the whole thing, but I'd bet he'd be upset at me anyhow. Especially if he knew the whole truth."   
"He's known to be very protective," Cay said.   
Autolycus glanced around. "So, um... is your sister Hylonome here?"   
Arellius arched an eyebrow. "No, but she might come later," he said. Then, with a sly grin, the centaur youth added "After all, she knew you were going to be here...."   
Autolycus blushed, then followed Cay and Arellius as they made their way through the carnival crowd.   


The three boys worked their way around the edge of a crowd. In the center of the crowd, a fat, jolly-faced gypsy was making a bear do tricks. He held a chain that led to the bear's muzzle, and with each motion the gypsy made, the bear wearily went through its routine.   
"Kind of a ratty-looking bear, isn't it?" Autolycus whispered over his shoulder.   
"Well-trained, though," Arellius replied.   
At the gypsy's command, the bear stood on its hind legs and took a bow.   
"Who will dare to wrestle with the bear?" the gypsy asked the crowd. "A dinar reward for anyone who can throw him!"   
The crowd was surprised and thrilled at the thought of wrestling with the bear, but nobody stirred to take the challenge.   
Cay leaned over to Arellius. "Why don't you give it a shot?"   
"Aw, come on," Arellius replied. "I'd probably win, but what's the point? That bear's so old there's no life left in him!"   
"Ha!" the gypsy called. "A brave man steps forth to match his strength and skill with the wrestling bear!"   
The three boys turned and saw Cabyr, Cay's burly father, move into the center of the crowd and crack his knuckles.   
Cay slapped a hand over his eyes and groaned under his breath.   
"Don't worry, Cay," Autolycus reassured his friend. "Your dad 's a tough guy, he won't get hurt..."   
"I know," Cay said. "But why does he have to make such a spectacle of himself?"   
The bear and Caybr the Elder circled around one another, each growling.   
"C'mon, then!" Caybr taunted. "D' yer worst, Mistah Baar!"   
The bear lunged forward, and Caybr caught it in a headlock. They wrestled around as the audience cheered. The gypsy made his way through the crowd, placing bets.   
The bear pulled back, knocking Caybr to the ground, and then tried to grab him. Caybr rolled to one side and, as he came up, punched the bear in the ribs. It groaned and took a swipe at him, finally making contact. Caybr fell back, then got to his feet grinning wickedly.   
"That's your father?" Arellius asked over Cay's shoulder.   
"I'm afraid so," Cay said wearily.   
"He's pretty good," Arellius said, patting the boy on the shoulder.   
Cay smiled at this and turned to watch his father in action.   
"C'mon, ya brown beggar!" Caybr taunted as he circled around the bear. "Make a move!"   
The audience cheered once again as the two grizzled combatants clashed.   


A few minutes later, Cay, Autolycus and Arellius were strolling further along the carnival path. In the distance behind them, Caybr the Elder stood triumphant over the unconscious bear, grinning as the unhappy gypsy paid those who had bet against the bear. On the edge of the crowd that surrounded Caybr and the bear, a cloaked figure watched the boys and started to move in their direction.   
"I wonder if that dancer's going to perform again," Autolycus said eagerly.   
"What dancer?" Arellius asked.   
"A gypsy Autolycus is smitten with, but she's a grown woman," Cay replied.   
"Pretty?" Arellius asked with a sly grin.   
Autolycus eyed him cautiously. "I saw her first."   
"As if that matters," Cay sighed. "The old fortune teller SAID that you weren't going to lose your virginity anytime soon--"   
Cay glanced over and saw that Autolycus was pulling his finger across his neck in the traditional slicing 'Shut the hell up' gesture. "Ixnay on the irginvay alktay," Autolycus whispered harshly, his face turning red.   
Cay and Arellius chuckled at Autolycus's discomfort.   
"Well," Autolycus said, fighting not to seem embarrassed, "that's just one crazy old gypsy talking. Why, I doubt she could have possibly determined anything REAL by looking at my palm."   
"She probably just makes it up as she goes along," Cay replied. "But I DO wonder what she was talking about with my lifeline..." He looked down at his palm. "Which one's the lifeline, anyhow?"   
"If she's making it up, what does it matter?" Autolycus answered.   


The dancer undulated on the stage, and the men in the crowd watched her with their eyes wide. A few let their jaws hang open; one or two even drooled a bit. Several were elbowed by their wives, who scowled disapprovingly.   
On the corner of the front row, Autolycus and Arellius were among the gawkers.   
"You were right," Arellius whispered, his eyes not moving for one second off the the sensuous dancer.   
"Her name is Revekkah," Autolycus replied, entranced by her every movement. "Such a beautiful name..."   
Cay came up beside the two. "I'm back," he announced, his eyes already fixating on the stage.   
"Good for you," Autolycus replied with no sign of interest in his friend's arrival.   
"What'd the old lady tell you this time?" Arellius asked.   
"Nothing, she wasn't there," Cay replied. "Her tent was gone. Must've moved elsewhere."   
The three boys silently watched the dancer for a few moments.   
"Whaddaya lookin' at?" came a voice by Autolycus's ear. He was so caught up in watching the gypsy dance that he hadn't noticed anyone coming up, and jumped at the sound.   
The speaker was a gangly, cheerful-looking black teen, probably 16 years old, with his hair worn in dreadlocks. He was dressed in colorful silk clothes that looked like they belonged to one of the gypsies.   
"Lutalo!" Autolycus cried, shaking the newcomers' hand. "I hadn't heard you'd gotten back!"   
Cay looked over. "Hi," he said, a bit more reserved.   
Lutalo nodded at Cay, and then looked up at the stage. "Whoa, that is one fine piece of craftsmanship..."   
"You're not talking about the stage, are you?" Autolycus asked, turning his attention back to the dancer.   
"There's a stage?" Lutalo asked, and a playful smile crossed his face. "Nah, at the Athens Academy, I saw this poet recite a piece about the gods crafting each person from clay. I'd say whichever one made her was having a good day..."   
"You get in to the academy?" Cay asked.   
Lutalo frowned. "Nah. But they liked my work, and said I could audition next year."   
Autolycus pointed over to Arellius with one hand and to Lutalo with the other. "Arellius, this is Lutalo," Autolycus said, careful not to draw his view away from the gyrations on stage. "He's gonna be the greatest bard in the world someday. Lutalo, this is Arellius. His family moved in to the old cabin by the waterfall...."   
"The one old man Gilpin used to live in?" Lutalo shook hands with the centaur youth. "Good to meet you."   
"Auditioning at the Athens Academy already?" Arellius said. "You must be really good."   
Lutalo shrugged in mock humility. "Well, one tries not to go against the opinions of the masses..."   


Revekkah's second dance was a rousing success, and the male segment of the crowd -- which was by far the majority-- cheered wildly. As a sword-swallower took the stage, the four boys wandered off.   
"I wonder if she'll put on another show today," Autolycus pondered.   
"I don't think your eyeballs can take any more bulging," Cay teased.   
"So, how'd you meet these two hoodlums?" Lutalo asked Arellius.   
"They helped save my sister Hylonome from getting kidnapped," Arellius replied.   
Lutalo shook his head. "Man, what is it with you two?" Then, to Arellius, he added, "That's what they were doing the first time I saw them; saving a little girl from getting kidnapped."   
"My sister hardly qualifies as little," Arellius chuckled.   
"Oh, really?" came a voice behind them. The boys stopped in their tracks,and Arellius cringed.   
There stood Hylonome, her arms crossed and eyebrows cocked. Like her brother, she was a centaur. Many of the people in the crowds that milled through the carnival took notice of her, since female centaurs were exceedingly rare. In all likelihood, she was the first she-centaur most of them had ever seen.   
She had large brown eyes, luxurious brown hair, high cheekbones and serenely lovely features; she was prettier, in fact, than the dancer the boys had been gawking at, but without such impressive cleavage or the sultry expression.   
"It was a compliment," Arellius started, already seeing that she wouldn't buy any lie he tried to tell. So, he changed tactics. "Look, you're not little, okay? A ladybug, that's little. A bunny rabbit, little. You, 'not little'. Get used to it..."   
Hylonome stuck out her tongue playfully, then turned her attention to Autolycus and pulled it back in. "Hi, Autolycus," she said softly.   
"Hi," he replied.   
"Nice carnival, huh?"   
"Yeah," he replied.   
"So, what've you been up to?"   
Autolycus shrugged. "Stuff..." he said, absently rubbing the back of his neck.   
Lutalo, meanwhile, pulled Cay aside. "What the Tartarus is this about?" the older youth asked, bemused.   
"What do you mean?" Cay whispered back.   
"Since when is Autolycus monosyllabic?"   
Cay stared at him.   
Lutalo rolled his eyes. "Since when does Autolycus only say one word at a time when he's talking with a girl? He's usually such a smooth-talking charmer..." He paused, and his grin grew wider. "Is he in loooooove??" he asked, as if sharing juicy gossip.   
Cay shrugged his shoulders. "Your guess is as good as mine."   
"Oh, love, definitely," Arellius interrupted with a wicked grin. "You should see how he stammers when he comes over to our house for dinner. And the way sis keeps talking about him, it's not one-sided..."   
Meanwhile, Autolycus bid Hylonome farewell with a nearly-mumbled "Bye" as she trotted off to meet up with her mother. He turned and saw his three friends leaning in together.   
"What're you three talkin' about?" he asked.   
"The two lovebirds," Lutalo said with a broad smile.   
"What two lovebirds?" Autolycus asked.   
"Well, there's this new poem I heard at the Academy. Let's see, how would it go in this case? 'Autolycus and Hylonome, sittin' in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g.. First comes love, then comes marriage...'..."   
Autolycus's face went red. "Shut up," he snorted.   
"Might need to change the poem there," Arellius said. "We centaurs are superior to you puny humans in everything BUT tree-climbing. When we try, it's not a pretty sight."   
"Good point. How about sitting on a rock? No, that doesn't rhyme right. How about 'layin' on a bed, actin' like they were newlyweds'?"   
"I don't know what you two are babbling about, but you're nuts." Autolycus grumbled.   
"Oh, yeah," Lutalo said, nodding sarcastically. "You don't want her. Ha! You practically keeled over when she came up. You've got it bad..."   
"I do not!" Autolycus protested. "She's a friend! Nothing more!"   
"Riiiiiiiight," Lutalo persisted.   
Autolycus spun on him. "Look, drop the subject, okay? I don't have it bad, I'm not a lovebird, and I'm not keeling over! She's JUST A FRIEND!"   
Lutalo was silent. Autolycus turned back around in the direction he had been heading and stormed away from them. They watched him go.   
"Whaddaya think?" Arellius asked.   
"I can practically see Cupid's arrow from here," Lutalo replied.   
Cay glanced over at the two uneasily and then raced to catch up to his friend.   


Autolycus stormed through a market area of the carnival, ignoring the barkers trying to sell their wares. His only concern was to get as far away from his so-called friends as possible.   
Cay raced up. "Where ya goin' in such a hurry?" he asked, trying to sound light-hearted.   
"As far away from those pinheads as possible," Autolycus muttered.   
"Aw, they were only teasing."   
Autolycus stopped in his tracks. "They probably think I got so flustered about the teasing because I really do have a crush on Hylonome, don't they?"   
Cay shrugged, though the answer was obvious.   
"And the fact that I ran away just adds to their suspicions." Autolycus stroked his chin. "I shouldn't have let them get to me like that."   
"Yeah, you coulda hid it better," Cay said.   
Autolycus turned to him. "HID it? Not you too??" he growled. "I swear, I don't know WHY everyone's turning on me today!"   
Cay stammered. They were coming to a row of closed tents at the end of the marketplace area.   
"To Tartarus with ALL of you!!!" Autolycus snapped. He turned and went through a tent flap to get away from his friend.   
Cay started to follow. "Autolycus, I don't think that tent's open to the pub---"   
As he poked his head in through the tent flap, Cay caught sight of Autolycus standing just inside the tent, dazed; directly in front of him, not fully clad, was the beautiful gypsy dancer, who seemed surprised by the intruder. Cay gulped and pulled his head back out of the tent flap.   
Outside the tent, Cay waited a minute to see if the dancer would scream for help or throw Autolycus out of the tent herself. When nothing happened, Cay nervously took a few steps back, took one more glance at the tent, and then headed back to the marketplace.   


Autolycus was sure he could feel his eyeballs sweating.   
In front of him, sitting on a wooden chair with her leg stretched out across a table as she massaged a sore muscle, was Revekkah, the gypsy dancer. She had removed most of her garments from earlier and was clad in a very short silken robe, which was opened wide enough for Autolycus to see more than just cleavage.   
"I... I'm sorry, ma'am..." he stammered, then started to turn away.   
Revekkah pulled the top of her robe tighter and watched as he headed toward the door. "Is something the matter?" she asked in a lilting, gentle voice that had a distinct Romanian accent.   
Autolycus turned back to her. "No, ma'am... I mean, yes ma'am, but nothing that concerns you..."   
"Care to tell me about it?" she asked, motioning toward another chair at the other end of the table.   
"I wouldn't want to bother you."   
"No bother, really. Have a seat."   
Autolycus went over and took a seat. He glanced at her, not sure what to say. When her green eyes focused on him, a shudder went down his spine.   
"What's your name?" she asked.   
"Autolycus."   
"And what brings you to my tent in such an agitated state?"   
"My friends were... um... teasing me."   
"Your friends? About what?"   
"A girl."   
She leaned forward, intrigued. "Let me guess. A girl you like, but don't want to admit you like?"   
"How'd you... I mean, no. Just a girl."   
Revekkah sat back and crossed her arms, smiling smugly. Those green eyes stared at Autolycus.   
"Who I kind of like," Autolycus finally admitted.   
Revekkah smiled broadly. "Ah, young love," she said wistfully. "When I was your age..." she smiled to herself and blushed... "Well, never mind what I did when I was your age. We should be talking about you."   
"I don't really want to bother you, ma'am."   
Revekkah rolled her eyes. "So what's wrong with this girl that you won't just come out and admit it?"   
"Nothing's wrong with her," Autolycus replied, a bit defensively. Then, he added, "Well, her father's really stern... and she's a centaur..."   
Revekkah's eyebrows went up. "A female centaur? I've never seen one, but I've heard that they're exceptionally lovely."   
"She's pretty, but... Well, she's not right for me."   
"Not right for you? If you mean sexually, women and centaurs have crossbred for centuries, so I don't see why you couldn't---"   
Autolycus blushed furiously. "Not that, not that. It's just that..." He rubbed his temples. "I'm afraid she might be the one I'd want to settle down with."   
"What's so wrong about that?"   
"I don't want to settle down!" Autolycus replied, as if he were surprised he had to explain it. "I want a life of adventure, out on the roads, or the oceans, wherever the wind may take me! My grandpa Daedalion had a saying, 'If I am to drown, better the open sea than the village puddle'. That's how I feel. I want to see it all! Sort of like you gypsies have it..."   
Revekkah stood and paced around him, putting her hands on his shoulders from behind him. He arced his head around so he could see her face.   
"You think that's what gypsy life is like?" She shook her head. "There are plenty of hardships. We have to deal with harsh winters, and raiders, and angry villagers who think we're immoral, and corrupt officials who want to tax us out of every dinar we earn..."   
"But the freedom..." Autolycus started.   
"Is nice, I grant you. Those of us who have settled down haven't lasted long without wanderlust." She ran a finger under his chin, and he gazed up into her shimmering eyes. "You sure you're not part-gypsy?"   
"Never met my father.. he died before I was born. But I know my mother wasn't one..." Autolycus replied.   
"Is this centauress the only girl in your life?"   
"Not by a long shot," Autolycus replied, finally comfortable enough to flash a partway-cocky grin.   
The two didn't notice a new head poking just a fraction through the tent flap. It was a hooded figure, watching them...   


"Whatcha doin?"   
The question, from a ten-year old girl with frizzy red hair, caused the hooded figure to jump.   
They were just outside the tent. The ten-year old was munching on the last of a plate of fried apple slices from one of the vendors.   
"N-nothing," the hooded figure replied, reaching up and pulling back the hood. She was also red-haired, with bangs that almost covered her eyes, and looked to be around 14. There was a strong family resemblance between the two, though the older girl was prettier and more delicate, while the younger was more lanky.   
"You were spying on Autolycus, weren'tcha?" the 10-year old asked, nibbling on her food.   
"Was not!" the 14-year old replied.   
"Aw, c'mon, Reunich," the 10-year old said. "I've been watching you all day. You've been following him around. Why?"   
Reunich sat at a nearby picnic table and flopped her head onto her hands. "I was checking to see if he was coming here to meet that centaur girl."   
"Ah, jealousy," the 10-year old giggled.   
"Shut up, Ahoondra," Reunich grumbled.   
"Make me."   
Reunich looked at her little sister, a foul expression crossing her face. Ahoondra recognized this and backed down... a bit.   
"Okay, okay, sorry," Ahoondra said. "So was he meeting the centaur girl?"   
"Briefly, but now he's in that tent back there," Reunich said, pointing behind her.   
"Who with?"   
"The most beautiful woman in the world, it looks like," Reunich said grumpily.   
"What're they doing?"   
"I don't want to think about it," Reunich replied.   
Ahoondra grinned, but deep down she felt a twinge of jealousy herself. For years, she had watched enviously as Autolycus and Reunich grew closer, since the two were almost the same age.   
Autolycus had been hanging out at their house as long as Ahoondra could remember, and was best friends with their brother Cay. But over time, hormones -- combined with the fact that Reunich was blossoming into a lovely young woman -- took over, and Autolycus and Reunich would sneak off to sit together and sometimes to kiss.   
Ahoondra didn't like that, but she wasn't sure why and wasn't about to admit to herself that she had a crush on the boy. And now, when she should have been enjoying her big sister's discomfort, all Ahoondra could think about was what Autolycus might be doing in a tent with 'the most beautiful woman in the world.'   


In the tent, Revekkah straddled a chair in front of Autolycus and gazed even more deeply into his eyes.   
"So, let me get this straight..." she said, running off names on her fingers. "Hylonome is the centaur girl, and she's the one you have the strongest feelings for, but you're afraid to admit it..."   
"I'm not afraid of anything!" Autolycus protested. "Well, maybe werewolves, but not that!"   
Revekkah nodded, not believing a word of it. "And Reunich is your best friend's sister, who you've been caught kissing a few times..."   
"More than a few," Autolycus said cheerfully.   
"And Reunich's little sisters all have crushes on you?"   
"That's what Cay says. I can sorta see it in Jeurdre --- that's Cay's twin sister, she's kinda quiet and bookish --- but not Ahoondra. I mean, she's kind of a tomboy. Just throws rocks at me and tries to wrestle."   
Revekkah smiled knowingly.   
"And his youngest sister Una is only five years old, so that doesn't count." Autolycus continued.   
"All right, not counting Una, that's four.. And the girl Lysa you flirt with at the village market makes five..." Revekkah switched to her second hand, all the fingers on her left hand already representing girls. "And then there's this girl Areanda, who you proposed marriage to..."   
"I was 7 at the time," Autolycus replied. "Who knew she'd remember? Anyhow, she keeps talking about us getting married when we grow up, but she's from a rich family and she's sorta snooty."   
"Any others?" Revekkah asked, examining the six fingers she held up.   
"Not really," Autolycus replied. "Unless you count a coupla girls who've moved away with their families and... uh, grown women who probably wouldn't have anything to do with me."   
"Six girlfriends at your age sounds like plenty," Revekkah said with a chuckle.   
"Yeah," Autolycus said ... then, bracing himself a bit, he added, "but none of them are as beautiful as you."   
Revekkah smiled. "If you were just a few years older..." she said playfully.   
"My birthday's in two weeks," he replied eagerly, flashing a charming roguish grin.   
Revekkah laughed. "Nice try, kiddo." She stood. "Look, I have to get ready for my next dance. That means I've got to change, and unfortunately, that means you need to head out."   
Autolycus stood. "So, what should I do?"   
"About what?" Revekkah asked.   
"Hylonome. Or any of the others, for that matter."   
Revekkah gazed into his eyes, causing him to shudder involuntarily again. "Well, I'm not the best one to advise you on matters of the heart... I've made too many mistakes myself over the years, but here's what I would suggest: Take it slowly. Be sure what you want." She ran her fingers through the boy's hair. "Don't do anything to hurt any of them."   
"I wouldn't do that," Autolycus replied. "Especially not Hylonome."   
"I know," Revekkah said softly. "You've got the charm to be quite a heartbreaker, but I think you're a good soul."   
As they walked to the tent flap, Revekkah took hold of Autolycus's right hand and looked at it.   
She smiled slyly. "Nice loveline," she said, holding the flap open as Autolycus left.   
After he was gone, she whispered to herself, "Too young, but what a babe." She fanned herself lightly as she started sorting clothes.   


As Autolycus approached, Reunich reached up and pulled the hood of her cloak over her head.   
Ahoondra chortled at this. The two were still sitting at the picnic table.   
"Hiya, Toly-Cuss," Ahoondra said.   
"Hi, squirt," Autolycus replied. He glanced over at the hooded figure. "Hi, Reunich."   
Reunich glanced out from under the hood, blushing. "Hi," she said in a hoarse whisper.   
"What're you two doing out here?" Autolycus asked.   
"Oh, just hangin' around," Ahoondra replied.   
Cay ran up. "Oh, good, you're out of--- I mean, you're here," he said, catching his breath.   
"What's wrong?"   
Cay grinned. "You heard about Monlik?"   
"The thief? What about him?" Autolycus asked.   
Cay pointed back over his shoulder. "He tried to pick my dad's pocket."   
"I didn't know he was even out of jail," Autolycus said.   
"Is dad okay?" Reunich asked, suddenly concerned.   
Cay and Autolycus rolled their eyes in unison.   
"Dad's fine!" Cay replied. "Monlik, on the other hand, is getting the pounding of a lifetime!"   
"I gotta see this," Autolycus said, following his friend as the two raced off.   
Reunich shook her head. "I don't know why boys love to watch fights so much. Do you?" she muttered. Then, she glanced around. "Ahoondra?"   
She looked over to the pathway the two boys had gone in, and saw her younger sister heading that way too. Reunich shook her head in disbelief.   


It was dark as Autolycus, Cay and Cay's dad strolled down the road away from the carnival. Cay's sisters had gone ahead, with their mother, while Autolycus, Cay and Caybr had found excuses to linger at the carnival a bit longer... and see Revekkah dance once more.   
Caybr was none the worse for his fight; as a trained pugilist, it hadn't taken him long to put the pickpocket out of commission. He was in a cheerful mood, having managed to get into several fights during the course of the day, and whistled as he walked along.   
"Nice carnival," Autolycus said, glancing back.   
"Yeah," Cay said, glancing at his palm. "Wish I'd been able to find that old fortune teller again."   
"Well, I don't see how one palm could tell your past and the other could tell your future anyhow," Autolycus replied. "Wouldn't that mean the lines in your palms would have to keep changing?"   
"Good point. Still, I DO wonder what she meant..."   
"Probably just a scam to make you pay more dinars for an 'in-depth' reading."   
"Yeah, I guess so," Cay said, glancing at his palm once more. Then, he looked up at Autolycus. "So, I noticed that dancer kept looking at you the third time we watched her act." He leaned in. "What happened between you two?" he whispered, though his father was oblivious to anything but the tune he was whistling.   
"Not for young ears, my friend," Autolycus said with a smile. "I'll tell you when you've grown up some."   
"I'm taller than you are," Cay replied. "And I can kick your butt, too."   
"Hey, I'm a lover, not a fighter," Autolycus said as they headed down the path to their homes.   


END.   



End file.
